Could We?
by TFK-fan118
Summary: The first time she aimed a smile his way, his insides reacted in a curious manner. Odd. Perplexing. Stimulating. But how could that be? He couldn't begin to count the differences between them. To start, they were of different origins. He shouldn't be stuttering like a fool in her presence. And he definitely shouldn't want to touch those horns so badly. Not in chronological order.
1. Love

He could no longer concentrate. Like a gale, she had come, completely disrupting his meeting and his very train of thought. Even his sentence had wavered at the sight of her. Her eyes. Those penetrating hazel eyes—tinged with gold and mischief—had watched him like a predator. Something inside of him had lurched forward. Admittedly, that had not been an abnormal reaction. The first time she had aimed a smile his way, his insides had begun reacting to her presence. It had been perplexing and oddly stimulating. Just a bit, her eyes had narrowed and a slight smirk had tugged at the right corner of her lips. Without a word, she had ignored the recruits that surrounded him and his desk, and then she had climbed the ladder to his quarters. That admirable woman, whom would most certainly shake the world, had chosen to come to him. She had chosen him. Even with all she had learned. How long had she been up there, doing Maker knows what?

A cough to his left made the Commander fully aware of his audience. He shut his eyes, took a moment to regain his composure, and then addressed his subordinates. As though he hadn't lost himself in thoughts of her, again, Cullen spoke with all the authority he could muster, given the presence of the Inquisitor in his quarters. "Right. That ends the report. You are all dismissed." He pushed his weight from his desk and gestured towards the door. Even going as far as to begin ushering the group out of his office, making certain he did not think of her eyes again, least his commanding tone falter. Most made their way to the exit. One cheeky newcomer had not moved. Instead, he had opened his mouth. Most likely, preparing to make a remark regarding the abrupt dismissal.

"But ser, you weren't finished with your sentence!" he protested. With a glare, which hadn't seemed to affect the new recruit, Cullen, none too gently, pushed the boy out of his office, and slammed the door shut. He had noticed the puckered lips and obnoxious kissing noises the recruit had made, to which his comrade had chuckled and shoved him before the door completely shut. Cullen made a mental note to remember the boy's face. Perhaps make him run around the entirety of Skyhold for 'insubordination.'

Cullen sighed heavily, pressing his weight against the wooden door. Actually, he would have to keep an eye on that one. More than likely, he had been the one to spread the rumor in the first place. He had, after all, been the one to interrupt the first time Cullen had attempted to steal those desirable lips. Speaking of which, those desirable lips had yet to speak. She must have realized they had gone now. The Commander shifted his gaze to the ladder, and then upwards to the opening in the floor. "In… Inquisitor?" His question had mostly been to provoke her words. Her voice had managed to rile him up, yet soothe him as well.

"Commander…?" she called back, voice laced with mirth.

With tense shoulders, he walked forward, and then made his way up the ladder. His eyes immediately found her boots. Then her pants. His eyes widened at a particularly impish thought. She cleared her throat, directing his gaze to her lounging form. Cullen swallowed thickly at the sight of her legs. She was never one to show much skin. This… was a surprising treat. She smiled at him, causing the tension in his back to fade. Maker… This woman was beautiful. In all his life, he never could have imagined being attracted to someone like her. Cullen finished climbing, eyes never leaving her form. She sat up, legs dangling over the side of the bed. She had him. She completely had his eyes.

"I've been thinking about you all day," she stated.

"I didn't know you'd return," Cullen began. Her lips curled into a smile. Like many times before, heat spread from one cheek to another.

"Surprise," she exclaimed.

Mouth going dry, he began to ramble about this and that. Honestly, he tried so hard not to do it. However, his body betrayed him often. The looks she gave him excited him in a way he was unaccustomed to. Focus, focus, he told himself. Eventually, his words found the seriousness he had wanted to convey. Despite how she came to him, looking for kisses, wanting to know more about him, Cullen still had doubts. As brilliant as she was and will be, and as broken as he had been, he did not understand her interest. At the back of his mind, there were doubts that plagued him. And so he questioned—stammered, really—her intentions towards him. He had been hesitant to meet her gaze, and so he had kept his eyes focused solely on his feet.

She remained silent, unknowingly prolonging his anxiety. Then she moved. He felt, rather than saw, her leave his bed and walk towards him. Her left hand found his, fingers intertwining. For certain, it was his heart that jumped. Almost reluctantly, he met her gaze. Her soft eyes smiled before her lips did. Cullen swallowed hard as she whispered his name. "Is that a question that should be up for debate?" she asked, playfully. His mouth went dry. Again. Though her tone had been joking, he could see the sincerity. He… He had been foolish to think otherwise.

"I suppose not—I…" Cullen lost his words again as her right hand slid against his 'lion's mane,' as she liked to call it. Smiling, she leaned forward. Her lips brushed against his. The simple brush had caused the tension to cease completely and the doubts to melt away. He had told her before that he had believed this… relationship would be impossible. She hadn't cared and had continued to come to him. Continued to flirt with him as though there hadn't been anything wrong with her obvious affections. Well, he supposed that there hadn't been anything wrong. With her frequent visits, he had become… He had simply fallen. Fallen so hard.

"You big kitten," she said in an admonishing tone. Where others had related his appearance to a strong and mighty lion, she had chosen to bestow such a nickname onto him after their first real conversation. Kittens weren't commanders. They certainly weren't mighty. Oh he had disliked it so. He had believed she had been mocking him because of his stature. In the beginning, at least. Now, when the nickname fell from her lips, he could not help the warming of his cheeks. It was an affectionate nickname, not an insulting one. "I want to be with you. Of course I do. You should know that by now." Her thumb traced his scar before caressing his lower lip. "I want this, don't you?"

"Maker, do I!" Cullen breathed rather than said. He hoisted her up—despite all, this was not as difficult as most would think—and she responded by wrapping her legs around his body. Her arms moved around his neck, fingers immediately latching onto his hair. He kissed her softly and walked her over to his bed. They had never gotten this far. Admittedly, Cullen found his hands trembling as he laid her down. Kisses and touches were nice, but he had always wanted more. He had wanted to explore every part, every crevice, of her body. He wanted to know her completely. Could it be that she wanted that as well?

The Inquisitor whimpered as his lips left hers. But he quickly pressed his mouth against her skin again, trailing her jawline. She giggled, and then moaned loudly when he sucked at her skin between her throat and chin. She loved when he did that. Cullen wanted to know what all she liked. What all she loved. Tonight was the night. Tonight was the night he discovered all of her.

She gasped a bit. He had already discovered a rather sensitive part of her flesh. Her left earlobe. He had gone for it on a whim. He had attacked using teeth and tongue, and she had liked it. Cullen smirked, making a mental note. The Inquisitor huffed, unwrapping her legs from his body. Then she pulled him up to her eye level. The sudden change in her demeanor befuddled him. He might have blinked three times in confusion. Then she opened her mouth, showing her teeth with her own smirk. "Take it off," she demanded. "There's too many layers between us. Keep this up and I'll feel underdressed."

"Pardon my rudeness… I will get right to it." Cullen slowly lifted himself. Her eyes lit up as he began removing articles of cloth and metal. Soon, he was only in pants. He noticed the slight arch of her brow. "Is this to your liking, Herald?"

"It's a start," she said with a shrug of her right shoulder. She lifted her leg, bottom of her foot barely touching his pectoral region. "You could have kept the lion mane, though."

"Forgive me. Perhaps I'll find _another_ way to impress you," Cullen replied, leaning forward. Her leg moved, allowing him access. His hands pressed down against the bed above her shoulders. Before he could share another kiss, however, his body froze. Eyes squeezing shut, he pleaded that this wasn't happening. Not _now_. No matter of pleading to the Maker, though, could stop the oncoming headache. He had had worse, but-

"Cullen…?" He heard her shift underneath him. Her warm palm cupped his cheek, tallest finger touching his temple. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" Her voice was filled with worry. Through gritted teeth, he attempted to explain it was only a headache that would pass. It will pass soon, he had told her as his veins bulged and his fingers clutched the spread of his bed. It was bad, though. But he couldn't very well make her worry even more than she already did. "Cul…" The Commander forced his eyes open, however her image was blurred. "I should go."

He had wanted to tell her it was fine, and that she could stay. _Please stay_… However, the words hadn't had the chance to leave him. With a grunt, she shoved him—not hard, but enough to allow her escape. He heard her jump, not climb, down. Not even a second later, his door slammed shut. No… No. No…! Maker, no! He had tried to repress it, and make it so she would never see him in this state. He hadn't wanted to push her away with his struggles. She already had the weight of the world. She wouldn't want more. As he predicted, she had run, clearly not wanting to deal with his vulnerable side. That hurt worse than this forsaken headache.

Cullen swallowed hard, opening his eyes once again. The blurriness had faded, allowing him to see a bit clearer. He pressed his lips into a thin line, breathing hard through his nose. How was he to face her tomorrow? More than likely, she would end it. Had he been expecting too much out of this relationship? Had she only wanted him for _fun_? But he had thought she had felt more for him. He had thought she had believed in him. She had so passionately convinced him to free himself completely from lyrium. He had believed, truly believed, that it had been that moment he had fallen in love with her. But she…

Her intentions had always been unclear to him, now even more so. She had wanted to be with him. That is what she had said right before she had witnessed the headache. Perhaps he should just let this be. Surely there were others that would be compatible to her. He had heard the way she and Dorian got on—heard the way they flirted with one another. Or Solas. It was no secret that she held the elf in high regard. No secret the way her eyes danced with fascination whenever he spoke. She was enthralled by his knowledge. Anyone could see it. Or… Or even Iron Bull. They both had this weird thing with dragons… A deep sigh escaped his mouth. Perhaps it was for the best—her seeing his vulnerable side. Let this be and let her go. It was… for the best.

But he did not _want_ that.

"Cullen."

In an instant, he sat up upon hearing his name. His eyes found her, and then grew considerably in realization. She stood before him, cup in hand, looking at wit's end. Her dark eyebrows furrowed and her lips formed a frown. "In… Inquisitor…?" he whispered, not sure if he should believe his own eyes yet. He hadn't heard her come up. Well, sneaking around was her specialty. She straightened her back, and then walked forward.

"Is that headache still there?" she questioned. "I didn't know what to do, but I… brought water. Had to wake up Dorian, so he could chill it for me. Word of advice: don't wake Dorian before he's ready. He didn't even catch that I'm practically wearing only my smallclothes." She sat beside him, rubbing his back with one hand and passing the cup with another. "Cold water—I once heard that it helps with headaches, so…"

"Thank you…" Cullen muttered, accepting the cup. Truly, the metal was as cold as ice. "I thought you had… left." _Never to return_.

"Sorry about that. 'I should go' sounds final, doesn't it? My mother says I must have said it many times in a previous life, and I've just inherited it." She gave another of her one-shoulder shrugs. "I don't think I say it that much, though." Cullen let out a weak chuckle, mostly to cover his guilt. He had doubted her intentions. She did care. Why else would she return? He took a drink as he listened to her chatter. She was nervous, he realized. Care as she might, she must have felt useless in that situation.

Cullen's eyelids lowered as he stared at the contents of the cup. The cool liquid had helped to ease the tension of his mind. He drank more. Drank it all until the cup became empty. With a heavy sigh, he lowered the cup from his lips. "Is… Is this alright?" he asked, halting her words. He didn't look at her in the silence that followed, but he imagined she appeared puzzled by his question.

"What do you mean?" she finally asked.

"As I am, I am a burden. These instances will continue to happen, and I have no control over when," Cullen clarified. He slid his eyes to her. She stared back, expression unreadable. "So is it alright for _this_ to continue? Is it alright…?" _To expect a future with you?_ For a long while, they simply gazed into one another's eyes. Cullen couldn't break it if he tried. It was she who broke contact first. Her eyes averted before closing. A soft sigh left her mouth.

"I…" she whispered, causing the Commander to draw a sharp breath. Her tone had sounded grim to his ears. "I have a confession." Perhaps she did not notice his tense form. When she opened her eyes again, they were focused elsewhere. Not on him. "When Cassandra first told me about your… condition-" She gave a wary glance before looking away again. "_Choice_," she amended apologetically. "Your choice to use lyrium again—when she told me, I agreed with you. I wanted to support your decision. It's your body and mind. If you thought it was a good idea to resume using lyrium, then I thought why should I disagree? You know yourself better than anyone. It… It wasn't my place." Cullen did not know where she was going with this, and so he remained silent. "But then I walked into your office, saw you pacing about, lamenting your frustrations. Being so violent without reason. It was a side of you I had never seen. And I, watching you like that, fear took a hold of my mind and my heart."

Cullen's heart dropped. Dropped to the deepest pits of his stomach. Absolute dread filled him and threatened to consume. Fear…? His mind roared, horrible possibilities making themselves known. It couldn't be. Did she-? "No! No—I would never!" he almost shouted. His hand touched her cheek, turning her face to his. "No matter the state I'm in, I wouldn't hurt you! You—_never_ you. You _must_ believe that! … Please believe that."

Her brow furrowed, and then she cupped the back of his hand. "That is not the fear that was instilled within me," she stated. "Rather…" She pulled his hand away from her face. "It was my own thoughts. Seeing you like that, I thought of what you told me before. About Samson. You said he was a good man once, and I couldn't help but think 'Did Samson go through this type of struggle before he ultimately lost himself?' 'Had he been given the same choice?' 'Could Cullen become the same?' Questions like those plagued my mind. I knew you were a good man—with a tortured past, but a good man all the same." Her eyes turned away again and her touch left him. She fiddled with her own fingers and bit her lower lip. "I… thought that if you were to take lyrium again, there would be a chance you would become like Samson. Or remain as you are—a good man."

Suddenly, she stood. Her movement had been so abrupt that Cullen had flinched. The Inquisitor faced him, cheeks darkened, lips frowning, and sweat sliding. He had never seen her so… disconcerted. Sweet and sassy described her perfectly, if not ornery as well. Unsettled, though…? Never. Or could it be, he, alone, saw this part of her? She let out a snarl and Cullen couldn't help but to rear back. Normally, she didn't make animalistic type noises. But… She and Cassandra _were_ best friends, so it shouldn't have come as a shock to find out they picked things off one another.

"But those two options weren't what _I_ wanted! In an instant, I had become selfish! I wanted to watch you struggle—crawl if need be! Wanted to watch you _grow_—become completely different from Samson. You are a good man, Cullen Rutherford, but I wanted to make sure you became a _great_ man. I wanted so desperately to be there when it happened. I had never been so sure of anything in my life until that moment. I felt like I wanted to control you despite what you thought about it. _That_ is what scared me. Because that is what people initially think when they look at _me_. I hate it, but I thought about controlling you as though it were natural… As if it were in my nature." She sighed deeply and shut her eyes. "As I've said, it wasn't my place to change your mind, but the words came and-" She sighed heavily again, staring down at the floor. "It's me who should be asking if this is alright. Not you."

Before he knew it, his arms were around her waist, mouth roughly pressing against hers. She was tense, at first, then she relaxed, much like their first kiss. Only when the need to breathe overpowered the need for her did Cullen slowly pull away. Eyes still closed and lips still parted, she panted softly. "I've…" He, too, was at a loss of breath. "I've never… felt this sure… of anything else until now." He slid his cheek against hers, directing whispered words in her ear. "… Akásha… I love you." She gasped and reared back.

"Wha-What? After all I've just said, you-?"

"Yes," he answered before hungrily claiming her lips yet again. Hands sliding, his fingers gripped her rear end. She moaned and arched her back, pressing their chests together. The taste of her, the feel of her—Maker, he needed her now. Cullen turned their bodies and walked her over to the bed. Never halting the kiss, he shifted, bringing his hands up to unclasp her shirt. Once the first became undone, he moved his mouth lower to her neck. With each clasp undone, he kissed her lower. Her hand grasped the back of his hair. She lied back, taking him with her. At the middle, he lifted his head. His lips softly trailed up her body, stopping at her left earlobe. "I wish to be your great man, Akásha." As he spoke, his left hand continued to unclasp her cloth. "I _will_ become your great man."

"Cullen…"

"Control me as you like. You already have me. Maker, you do…"

His hand slowly slid over her toned and scarred flesh.

0-0

Most likely, he should not be doing this. He didn't have many options, though. She slept peacefully, unaware that he did not. Whilst she had gradually fell to slumber, he had laid awake, either staring up in thought or staring at her. Now, with the morning sun peeking into his quarters, his fingers moved across her exposed skin. Akásha was, surprisingly, a deep sleeper. Her legs were intertwined with his, and her arms were curled against his chest. Cullen breathed deeply through his nose. His senses were filled with a combination of her and him. He could definitely become accustomed to the pleasantness of it.

The Commander let a soft smile cross his face as he continued to gaze upon her relaxed face. He had seen it once before. It had been the first night she had allowed him to touch her. Cullen sighed, completely content. Even without sleep, he did not feel at all exhausted. If the world stopped at this very moment, he wouldn't be all that upset. Though he did not want to disturb her dream, with the appearance of the sun, duty called. Once again, she was the Inquisitor. And he, her advisor. "Akásha…? You must wake," he informed her. "Morning has come." She had not reacted to his gentle urging. Cullen leaned down a bit, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Inquisitor, please." This time, her ear twitched. Her breath hitched, yet sounded more like a huff.

Cullen almost chuckled. He ran his hand through her smooth locks. Her normal hairstyle had come undone sometime during the night. Her legs moved, stretching out. She yawned before opening her eyes. Akásha slowly looked up at him. A frown tugged at her lips. "And here I was hoping you weren't going go all commander mode until _after _the sun reached its peak." A chuckle ended up escaping his lips.

"Come now. You know me better than that," he told her.

"Indeed," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Then she smiled, tilting her head up. "Good morning, Cullen." Her lips reached his in a chaste kiss. She reared back, showing her teeth in a grin. "Good night…?"

"The best I've had in a long time," Cullen admitted. She smirked in quite the smug manner. Akásha moved, climbing on top of him. His heart jumped a bit. She leaned down and whispered how she could make it the best morning, too. "Inquisitor, please!" His voice may have come out higher-pitched than he would have liked. She merely laughed and lifted her leg, and moved to lay beside him again. She propped her head up with her fist and elbow. Her eyebrows furrowed, but the smile remained on her face. "Is there something you wanted to ask?"

"For someone in commander mode, you're certainly moving slow," Akásha mentioned. "Could it be you want to stay in bed, with me, all day?"

"I want nothing more, but-" He was interrupted by her finger holding his lips together.

"_Ah, ah, ah_…! I didn't ask for an explanation with your answer," she stated. Slowly, she took her finger back. "Tell you what. I won't hold it against you if want to abandon your duties for a day and just cuddle." Her eyebrows bounced suggestively. Cullen, in response, raised a skeptical brow. "Really…! Just cuddling, but no promises."

"You drive a hard bargain," he remarked. Still, he made himself comfortable by maneuvering both arms around her waist and resting his head against her chest. Again, a sigh of content left his mouth. Like many times before, Akásha began petting his hair, tangling fingers in his curls. The motion, though he was already used to him, still sent chills down his spine. Pleasant chills that made suppress a purr. He couldn't let it slip. He'd never hear the end of it. "Fine," he murmured, nose nuzzling the skin between her breasts. "As you wish, Herald." Almost timidly, Cullen placed his leg between hers. "I am yours to command."

"_Hm_… Well, I did… want to know something."

"Yes…?"

"… How can… How can this be? I mean, you and I… You're human and I'm…"

"Perfect to me…?"

"… You smooth talker. You don't have to win points anymore, you know. You're already in my heart," she said in a teasing manner.

"Am I now?" Cullen replied in the same manner. She didn't reply right away. Strange. Normally, she had some type of quip at the ready. He looked up, surprised to discover a shy smile. Her cheeks had grown darker than her skin. He felt blood rushing to his face as well. She had been serious. He dwelled inside her heart and she had just admitted it out loud. "_Ah_-" Cullen swallowed thickly, not sure how to respond, but knowing that his own heart leapt with elation.

"Yes," Akásha whispered. "You are… I love you, Cullen." Her brow knitted. "I don't think I've ever felt like this. I never thought I'd… fall for a human."

"You say it like it was a bad thing."

"Oh, like you didn't have any qualms about loving a _qunari_."

"…" She must have wanted her retort to sound playful, but it ended up sounding like an accusation. Akásha loved him, but he supposed she must have had doubts about this relationship as well. Well, he would have to put an end to that, wouldn't he? Cullen reached up, cupping her cheek. She was tense just for a moment before reacting to his touch. She turned her head a bit, lips finding his palm. She shut her eyes, looking as though she enjoyed it. "You may not have always been… _Akásha_ to me, but it has been quite some time since I've thought of you in that way. I did not begin to like a qunari. I did not fall in love with a qunari. I fell in love with _you_. I will gladly tell how we can to be through my eyes so that there is no more doubt." She opened her eyes, golden gaze finding his. Cullen smiled. She had told him previously that she felt his smiles were infectious. Apparently so, for she mirrored his change in expression. "This story revolves around one question, Akásha."

"What's the question?"

"… Could we?"

0-0

Because **screw the norm**! I should not have played this friggin game. It has consumed my creative writing mind! Hopefully, I won't forget my other stories. Anyway, the full-cough, cough, _mature_-version of this story will actually be posted on another site. Archive of our own, if you haven't head about it. I was invited. :D Soooo if you're curious about the romance development between Cullen Rutherford and Akásha Adaar, and you happen to like my style of writing, I'll let you know when the next chapter is posted going up. Until then, check out my other works. They're _different _ as well.


	2. Touch

Cullen was troubled. Well, not troubled. More along the lines of attempting to fall asleep, but could not remain still long enough to do so. Perhaps he did not wish to fall asleep. The ghosts of his past often came to haunt him. They so viciously sprang him awake in cold sweat. That terrifying feeling always came, and he always felt so powerless. Admittedly, sleep only made him exhausted. Why rush to do something that would only bring about nightmares? Still, he could not let this be. The ever observant Leliana would surely notice, and she would exchange a rather nonchalant bawdy comment with Josephine regarding his nightly activities. During the daily meeting. More than likely in front of the Inquisitor so that she might partake in the laugh. Whether she'd laugh at the remark or because she knew better would be the question.

Without warning, the sound of his door slamming against the wall caused his head to snap up and his hand to reach for the dagger attached to the underside of his desk. The sharp projectile would have been launched if Cullen hadn't recognized the sudden intruder. Slowly, he slid the dagger back into its compartment, refraining from sighing heavily. Right on time, he would have said if he knew what time it was. Still, she had often sought him out in the dead of night, so her appearance was not unusual. The way she had entered, however, had been highly strange. She tended to be quiet, almost eerily silent. It was in her nature, she had once told him. "Inquisitor," he spoke calmly despite the way his heart had yet to calm down. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, you're still up—good." She moved towards his desk, closing the door behind her with her foot. In response to her, the Commander made his way around the desk to stand beside her.

"And if I had fallen asleep, surely your entrance would have roused me, yes?" The question had been lined with sarcasm, causing the horned woman to chuckle. Just when he thought he had calmed his heart, she does that. A smile lingered on her face as she slid her golden eyes to him. Cullen bit the inside of his mouth in an effort to suppress the lop-sided grin that might have emerged.

"Keep at it, big kitten, you're getting funnier," Akásha drawled. She sat on top of his desk, pushing papers away as she did. "You just might make my sides ache one day."

"I await with bated breath for that day," Cullen replied, which caused another chuckle. He moved, pressing his backside against the desk. "Now, is there something I can do for you, Inquisitor?" The mirth suddenly left her. It had been such a drastic change in her demeanor that he couldn't hold back his frown. Her brow furrowed as her gaze left him and focused on the floor.

"I… wanted to talk," she murmured. "I went to Cassandra first, but she's in one of her 'How can you not believe in the Maker?!' moods. Honestly, I think she's still embarrassed that I found out she's actually one of Varric's biggest fans." She looked his way again. "You don't mind, do you? You're someone I can speak freely with. I'm comfortable around you."

"I… I don't mind at all," Cullen stated. Truly, her words had caused elation. He could recall a time where she hadn't trusted anyone here. She had kept a frosty persona for so long in the beginning. Many had been afraid of the Qunari woman, who wasn't actually of the Qun. Now, she was their leader. Their beloved leader. Many would sacrifice themselves to defend her. Himself included. And not only because she had the power to the world's current plight. "Speak your mind… Akásha."

"Well, I've just come from speaking with Solas."

A certain irritation fell over him at the mention of the elven mage. Cullen almost regretted his decision to listen. He might have known. She had originally sought out Cassandra first, after all. Almost the whole of the Inquisition believed Akásha felt some type of way about the elf. The rumors irritated him to no end. Even more baffling, the two at the center of the rumors shrugged them off, never denying or confirming such a thing. _Puh_…! He sincerely wished the rumor would die already. Cullen swallowed hard. Despite not wanting to hear about Solas, he cleared his throat. "Yes…? I assume you want to talk about him. Did something happen?"

"He's such an infuriating _egg_ sometimes!" To his surprise, Akásha scowled and crossed her arms. She looked very much annoyed by the thought of Solas. Admittedly, it remedied the certain irritation that had come with the mentioning of the mage. Perhaps it made him a horrible man for thinking that way. "I don't want to take him with me the next time I go out!"

"That… is not exactly a good idea. He is the designated healer, is he not?" Cullen asked.

"So? Dorian's a mage, too!"

"… He is not as efficient with healing spells."

"Fine! We won't need a healer! All of us can-"

"Weren't you telling me that a bear had attacked the group and only Cassandra made it out, leaving her to drag all of your unconscious bodies to a safe distance?"

"That bear came out of nowhere!"

"Same goes for most, if not all, of your enemies. As your advisor, I recommend that you not make such a hasty decision regarding your safety. And the safety of your comrades because you had a row with the healer," Cullen said. The Inquisitor's lower lip poked out just a bit. Though, he could admit, to himself, that he did not like having Solas and Akásha together, Cullen could not deny that the mage was needed. He trusted the elf to keep the Inquisitor alive.

"But it's going to be awkward after what transpired between us!" Akásha exclaimed. Before his mind could wander on the possibilities of that statement, Cullen forced himself to ask what exactly happened. "We were talking like we normally do, right? About the Fade. Eventually, we began to speak about Dalish culture. I wanted to know if other elves could travel to the Fade. He told me that he wouldn't know—that he didn't associate with Dalish elves. That he really didn't even think of himself as Dalish or even as a city elf." She sighed heavily, pout becoming more prominent. "So I say, completely joking might I mention, 'And yet you only want to _bang_ one!'"

"Maker's breathe…" Cullen shut his eyes, rubbing at his temple with two fingers. He had become accustomed to Akásha's vulgar way of talking. She did not do it often—she had told him—only when she was extremely comfortable. At the time, he had been flattered. Perhaps he still was.

"It slipped out!" Akásha grumbled. "I don't joke around with him normally!" Alright. He was definitely still flattered. "But it was too good to pass up! I couldn't help myself. But Solas took it in a completely different way! He just stared at me with this apathetic face. Then he's all like 'I see… Inquisitor, I apologize. I'm afraid I don't see you that way.' And I'm like 'What?! What are you talking about?!' I guess panicked a bit because that was the first time he didn't call me by name. Then he goes 'Perhaps it would be best if we end our talk for tonight.' So I say 'Your loss, asshole!' and then ran away."

"Pardon my words, but your reaction to him seems a bit-"

"I _don't_ like him like that, Cullen! For Spirits' sake! He doesn't even have _hair_!"

"Hair…?"

"Yes. Love hair!" Her pout turned into a smirk. "The longer the better." Akásha licked her lips. Cullen found himself swallowing hard again. For a completely different reason. "There was this guy… He was the first human who called me lovely. I think the fascination began with him. He had long dark hair—an archer, I think. But his heart belong to some elf woman. Can't remember her name. I think it starts with a B or a V. Then there was this elf. His hair wasn't dark, but the length… Ooh, and he had this voice, and this dark tattoo on his face that I couldn't help but li-" Cullen loudly cleared his throat, interrupting whatever the woman might have ended her sentence with. To be honest, he did not want to know of her past encounters with men. "Right. Point. _Hair_. He doesn't have any, so no, I don't like him in that way."

"Then why did you react in such an aggressive manner?" Cullen asked, subconsciously moving a hand through his own hair.

"Well…" She lowered her voice and uncrossed her arms. "As you know, I didn't grow up with Qunari. For most of my life, I've been surrounded by humans and elves—a few dwarves, too. Being around only their species, it's not surprising that I would come to find them attractive. I wanted a relationship, in that sense, like everyone else I knew. But… I was only something to be feared. No man looked at me… like other women. They wouldn't want to touch me… or call me lovely." Akásha laced her fingers together, connecting her hands in a tight grip. "I've been rejected by many men. I get angry and my body reacts. I guess… I've never really gotten over it if I smacked the shit out of Solas." She sighed heavily again and shut her eyes.

Cullen could only stare, truly surprised. Akásha had always appeared to be a strong, confident woman. She put on a façade that had others believing she was carefree, a woman who did not mind the wary stares and the vicious comments. But, he supposed, that's all it was. A façade. The Commander knew he shouldn't blame himself, but for all his watching of the Inquisitor, he had not been able to see through it. Cullen found his hand twitching. He wished to comfort her, but was it his place? Would she allow him to? His hand twitched again, this time lifting just a bit off his thigh.

"Akásha, may I… May _I_ touch you?" The blurted question had caused the woman's eyes to snap over. Her gaze fell upon him, clearly in disbelief. Cullen immediately attempted to recant his question. Key word being attempted. "Th-That is if… I me-mean you don't… I wouldn't wa-want… _uh_… I could—we're… I jus-just thought-" Her smile stopped him from speaking further. Akásha turned her body to face him, and then slowly nodded her head.

"I understand… Yes, you can," she answered. Cullen held his breath as the woman began to remove his gloves. Both of them. Once they were both gone, she looked back into his eyes. She bit her lower lip. "Thank you, Cullen." With her permission, he felt a bit bolder. He lifted his left hand first, then his right. It was only after his palms cupped her cheeks did he release the puff of air trapped in his lungs and mouth. His fingers touched just about everywhere on her face. Like a caged animal, his heart beat loudly against its confines. Maker… He hoped his hands were not clammy.

His thumb lightly moved over her labret piercing. The small silver ball glinted in the candlelight. A low rumble came from her throat. Cullen almost moved away in panic, but upon focusing back on her eyes, he discovered them close. She had become entirely relaxed by his touch. The low rumble had been a moan. Cullen flushed as the realization hit him. He was touching her. Akásha was allowing him to _touch_ her. He had waited for this chance since… Well, it had certainly felt like forever since the thought of touching her entered his mind.

Cullen lifted his gaze further, settling on her horns. They formed around her head like a crown, ends—one blunt, one sharp—pointing upward. He pursed his lips and squared his shoulders before going for it. The fingertips of his left hand traced the ridges of her right horn. Almost cautiously, his moved his fingers upward to the tip. It wasn't as sharp as he thought. It was more like a rose's thorn. If not careful, one could prick himself. He wanted to feel the blunt one as well. Perhaps ask what had happened to her left horn. However, he felt as though he were getting ahead of himself.

Slowly he pulled his hands back. Any more touching, and he would want more. He doubted Akásha would want the same. Maybe he did not have enough hair for her preferences. It was a wonder how he had been allowed to be this intimate with her at all. Still, it had been nice. Cullen turned his eyes away as she began to open hers. Maker, was it nice. "For what it's worth… I find you lovely," he whispered. It was much easier to form clear words when he didn't look into her eyes. Even so, his entire face felt as though it had been forced near lava. "I mean… I speak for the whole of the Inquisition when I say that. You _are_ lovely… You are our beloved Inquisitor, and we would not think to reject you."

"Cullen…" Hesitantly, he met her gaze against. She wore such a warm look that he felt as though his heart would break though his chest. Akásha had never had such an expression on her face before. Well, he certainly hadn't seen it previously. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and leaned down a bit. Cullen found himself holding his breath again. Maker…! Was she going to kiss him? He had entertained such thoughts before, but to have it happen? His heart might give out from overworking. However, instead of her lips meeting his, her nose lightly rubbed against his. He almost gasp at the contact, but managed to keep it in. He could not help the guttural groan that came from his throat.

"_Maker preserve me…!" _Cullen thought. He wanted so badly to- But he had seen her do this to Cole on numerous occasions. They boy/spirit… whatever… had given her a purple flower. She had responded with a radiant smile and leaned down to bump his nose with hers, calling him her _sweet thing_. That had been the first time he had seen it. The seemingly intimate gesture was not reserved for just one person. Knowing this did not stop his entire body from growing hot.

"How is it that you've come to know what to do in order to cheer me up?" She reared back, and his eyes opened. He hadn't realized he had shut them. Her left hand lightly slid up his right cheek and into his hair. "What could I have possibly done in a past life that I was given you as a friend in this one?"

"Perhaps you… Perhaps you saved the world…?" Cullen vaguely replied. Her fingers running against his scalp was extremely distracting. He had to force himself to not drift. Then he realized what she was trying to do. He reared away from her touch and tried to glare. "Inquisitor, please! I will not _purr_ for you!" She scoffed, clearly disappointed that her intentions had been seen. Grinning, she stood up from the desk.

"I'll get it out of you sooner or later, big kitten," Akásha teased, wiggling her fingers at him whilst heading for the door.

"Cursed ox-woman! Go to bed!"

"_Oooh_, someone's irritated!" She opened the door. "Same to you, Commander. Sleep well." With a wink, she left him, closing the door as she went. Her exit hadn't been as loud as her entrance. Cullen waited a few moments before allowing himself to chuckle. He rubbed his forehead, letting the smirk linger. That woman—that amazing woman—did not yet realize what she did to him. What she could do to him. He shut his eyes for a moment. He prayed to the Maker and his Wife that he would have another chance like that one. Cullen sighed, sitting on his desk. He looked up, following the way of the ladder leading up to his quarters. Perhaps he should try sleeping again. With a shrug, he moved toward the ladder.

That night, he dreamt of touching more than just horns.

0-0


	3. Talk

He had formed an image of the Qunari. In Kirkwall, he had seen quite a few, and so it hadn't been hard to do so. Qunari were tall, muscular, white-haired, and grey skinned. Horns of different shapes and sizes attached to their heads. They were the only race to have horns, hence why they were referred to as ox-men. They painted their upper bodies with some type of red liquid. They had sharp claws and teeth. That had been the image Cullen had expected. That image had been shattered instantly upon actually meeting the Qunari prisoner.

To start, she had been… well, a _she_. Whispers—and sometimes angry shouting—of the unconscious _ox-man_ had led him to believe that the prisoner had been, in fact, male. However, Cassandra had introduced _her_ as the prisoner. He had been taken aback by her appearance. Yes, he had gotten the tall and horned parts right, but that had been all. He hadn't noticed her at first for he had been too focused on slaying the demon in front of him. But after the demons had been slain and the small rift closed, she had had his full attention. Come to think of it, it had been his first time seeing a Qunari female. She had dark hair pulled back in a bun. One of her horns hadn't been sharp like the other as though it had been cut in a haphazard manner. Not a splash of paint had covered her features. Then again, the bulky mercenary coat had concealed most of her body. She had piercings, too. One silver labret piercing, and three small hooped earrings attached to her right earlobe.

Cassandra had introduced them. Admittedly, he had been in shock about her appearance that he had not responded right away. However, she had not responded _at all_. She had merely narrowed her yellow eyes, and then had turned away. Cassandra had awkwardly attempted to smooth it over by saying that it hadn't been the time for small talk. Though she had been right, Cullen had felt highly offended. In her eyes, had she only seen him as another insignificant human not worth her time? Had she been thinking he wouldn't survive, and so she had not thought to speak to him? Did all humans look the same to her, he had wondered. But he had no time to continuing pondering the Qunari's rude behavior. There had been many others that needed his attention at the time.

Then she had, miraculously, closed the biggest rift in the world. It had taken so much of her strength to do so. The Qunari female had saved many people that day. During her slumber, the people of Haven had shifted their image of her. _The Herald of Andraste_, they now called her. They believed she had been sent by the Wife herself in their darkest hour. Cullen, however, was not yet convinced of the title. She was still an unknown. Although she had the power to seal the rifts that had appeared in the world, there were still many unanswered questions regarding her involvement. What had she, a Qunari, been doing at the Conclave? Her intentions were unclear and that had caused wariness.

Perhaps the Commander still felt a bit… irked by their first encountered, which caused him to be biased in his opinion of the Qunari. Still, his viewpoint was not completely unfounded. That is the reason Cullen had taken it upon himself to watch her accommodation. Villagers had stopped their assassination attempts, so he did not have to worry about an intruder. When Haven was quiet and few guards were stationed, he watched her lodging, waiting. From the moment she stepped out, he would observe her from a distance and discover her goal. Whether it be benign or malevolent.

He had been at this for three nights already. Tomorrow would mark the third day of her unconsciousness. If she had not awoke by then, Cassandra would turn to more drastic measures to wake the Qunari. She believed the horned woman would be a great help in righting the world—or at the very least, closing the rifts—but they could not wait forever for her to wake.

Then quite unexpectedly, the wooden door creaked. Then silence. If Cullen had not been paying close attention, he might have missed the sound entirely. He tensed, watching the door slowly open. Her horned head peeked out first. Her eyes darted around before she exited her dwelling. She had changed her attire. She now wore the clothes that had been custom-made for her. The leather clothing hugged her body, especially the trousers. She still wore boots, but they were not bulky like her other pair. They looked tight around her legs. For the most part, her new outfit appeared durable, yet light.

The horned woman rolled her shoulders. Left first, then right. Then she moved, quite silently away from her lodging. Her gaze scanned the village, seemingly taking in the village. Cullen lowered himself. He was no rogue, but he was sure he wouldn't be spotted in the spot he had chosen to watch her. _"What is she doing?"_ he wondered as the Qunari moved further and further away from his sight. He had to follow her. And so he did.

As quiet as he could, Cullen followed the giant all throughout the village. No one else seemed to notice her presence. However, she did not attempt to make her presence known. He watched her eyes stray on the gates of the village as though contemplating. If she had left, that would erase whatever burden it would place on her. She could disappear and leave the world in chaos. She did not, though. Instead, she turned away from the gate and headed further into the village.

The Qunari headed up the steps to the largest building in the village. Cullen halted, though, when she entered the Chantry. He had to follow her, of course, but entering right after her would arouse her suspicion. She would hear the door opening and closing. So the Commander waited. He pressed his back to the wall, straining to hear any movement within the Chantry. There was not. Still, he waited. Just a few moments more. Then, as slowly as he could, he opened the door. Fortunately, it hadn't made a sound. Cullen began scanning the large room before the door could shut behind him. He did not see her.

Had she gone in the far room or-? He suddenly heard footsteps. Cullen squinted into the darkness. There were a few candles lighting the path, but the light could not reach the entire space. A shadow moved to his left. The footsteps sounded as though they were fading... down. The dungeons, he thought. Why? Admittedly, his wariness shifted into curiosity. Perhaps she was searching for something not returned to her? But her personal items had been set up in her quarters. At least, that is what he had been told.

Carefully, Cullen made his way down the stone steps. He peered around the corner. No sight of her. Still, the dungeon wasn't the most well lit place. The Commander moved forward at a slow pace. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps he had gotten it wrong. She might not have come down here at all. Cullen stopped. Inaudibly, he sighed. Perhaps he had gotten all of this wrong. The Qunari had had multiple opportunities to escape, become hostile, or simple not fight at all. Cassandra had told him that she had been cooperative since she had become conscious. He ran a hand through his hair.

The Qunari was conscious now. She would be formally introduced tomorrow. He could simply wait for that time to gain information. After all, she had already shown that she would not leave. Not so soon, at least. Cassandra truly believed she could be helpful with that hand of hers. For a moment, Cullen shut his eyes. Yes. The Qunari was an asset. He could not deny that. Instead of keeping watch like her bespoke guardsman—though in all honesty, she was a mercenary—he might try a different approach to obtain information. At the very least, he might not stay up all night, keeping track of her. When the time came, he would ask her directly what her ambition could possibly be.

On that mental note, Cullen turned around, intending to go back up to the main floor. However, his face collided with a wall… made of flesh. He stumbled back a bit in surprise. Then he lifted his gaze, meeting impassive yellow eyes. The Qunari…! He felt his body become numb. She had caught him. Alone. In the dark. "My… What a brave person," she began. Her voice was low, yet strong. His mind immediately compared it to iron dipped in honey. He could not begin to fathom why. "To follow me into my domain—you must be brave, _Commander_." Her domain…? The dungeons? What could she-?

"_Of course…"_ Cullen thought. The darkness. She was a rogue, despite her build. The shadows aided her style. At first glance, he had assumed she was a warrior, specializing in two-handed weapons. Instead, she had dual weapons attached to her back. He had gotten so many things wrong about her. "It…" The Commander cleared his throat, ignoring the shiver that went down his spine. "It was not my intention to-"

"Be _lured_ here?" The Qunari stepped forward, causing Cullen to move backwards. "Tell me, Commander, why were you following me in the first place?" It was then that he realized that she had recognized him. Then she could distinguish between humans? He hadn't been just another face in the crowd to her? "I don't _like_ being followed."

"No, Qunari, I don't imagine anyone would," Cullen rejoined. He recalled the many times he had caught Hawke following him, intending to pull some ridiculous prank. Surely the only reason he had caught her so many times had been because she had always brought along her elf.

"_Hm_… Cheeky," the Qunari remarked. He hadn't meant to be, but before he could explain his retort, she continued. "What did you intend to find by following me? My _darkest_ secrets?" Cullen's stomach jumped. He did not know why.

"I-" Again, he cleared his throat, averting his eyes for a just a moment. He willed his body to stop reacting in such a strange way. The situation was not necessarily hostile, but if he said the wrong thing, it could shift to aggression quite quickly. "I only wished to know why you were sneaking about." She scoffed. "But since we're here, I would like to directly ask you if you have… conflicting interests, Qunari." Her left eyebrow arched. She bit down on her lower lip. It came back wet. Cullen found himself swallowing.

"Conflicting interests…?" she repeated. "I had believed that this—whatever _this_ is—planned on figuring out just what happened at the Conclave, fix whatever happened, and save the world. Was I wrong?" Slowly, the Commander shook his head. "Then I am not sure why you are asking such a question. Our interests are the same." She crossed her arms. "Or are you thinking because I'm _Qunari_ that I planned on using this opportunity to convert as many people to the Qun as possible?" She leaned down, face mere inches from his. She did not seem to mind that he had to bend back as she towered over him. Cullen had always believed himself to be tall—taller than most men. But compared to her… She was, at least, a head taller.

"Wait, I-"

"Because I'm _Qunari_, you believe I have hidden motivations for staying?" She continued, ignoring his attempt at apologizing… Well, she hadn't been wrong. It had assumed things about her. "Because I'm Qunari, I'm a heathen—a heretic—that only stands for the sole purpose of dominating and controlling? Because I'm _Qunari_, in your eyes I'm _sneaking about_ and not just getting to know my current surroundings?" With each question, she appeared less impassive. Her expression had become angry. "Well, what if I told you I'm _not _Qunari—that I don't know one single line of the Qun? What then, _Commander_?"

"I… well, I… I would apologize for my assumptions…?"

Her lip twitched. He heard her teeth grind together. Apparently, it had been the wrong answer. Or perhaps the manner in which he had answered had been wrong. Either way, it resulted in him being pinned to the wall. She had moved so quickly, he barely recognized what had happened. He wasn't necessarily pinned, just trapped. Her hands were pressed hard against the wall, right hand next to his head and left hand by his side. Cullen swallowed hard again. Her face was so close. He could make out her features quite clearly. She… She had freckles. Brown freckles. And her teeth. Her canine teeth were sharp. She could pierce his skin easily with them. But the most distinguishing feature was her eyes. They were not yellow, but hazel. Light brown with streaks of gold. Her eyes were like strange gems that had yet to be discovered.

_What_…?

"I'll tell you what's _going_ to happen…!" Her voice snapped the Commander out of his thoughts. He focused on her face, breaths resuming. "You will not follow me again. You will not treat me like a suspect. You will not question my intentions again unless my actions prove to be concerning. You will not—and listen carefully because this is the most important one—you will _not_ refer to me as Qunari _ever again_! I am a _person_! Not an entire race or religion, or whatever you think Qunari are! I have a name! It's _Akásha Adaar_! You will address me by name or you will not address me at all! Are we _clear_, Commander?!" It took him a moment to respond. Maker's breathe, what was happening to his mind? She was definitely threatening him, and yet… and yet…

"I… understand…" Cullen hadn't realized he had been panting until he had attempted to speak. "This won't… happen… again." Her demands had been… reasonable considering the circumstance. From the start, he had gotten everything about her wrong. Her reaction to him was understandable. Slowly, she reared back, never breaking eye contact with him. The further she went away, her freckles seemed to fade and the color of her eyes seemed to return to being yellow.

"Good. That's good." Her arms dropped to her sides. The aggression in her expression had disappeared. "I would hate to have the Commander of our forces be incompetent—someone incapable of realizing his mistakes."

"Yes… That would be a…" He coughed. "Not good thing."

"If you want to know something about me, just _ask_. Surely you can manage that?" Cullen stiffly nodded. "May I continue exploring in peace, Commander?"

"A-As you were."

She arched her brow, and then smoothly turned away. Her new jacket billowing behind her like a cape. "Oh, and… You might want to get some sleep," she advised. "I would hope the Commander wouldn't allow just anyone to pin him." With those parting words, she continued on her way.

Cullen watched her go until she was out of his sight. Once he was sure he was gone, her name left his lips. "Akásha… Akásha… Akásha…" He whispered her name again and again, hoping it would stick. Another confrontation like that—he did not wish to antagonize her. The Qunari… wasn't Qunari, after all. She wasn't a suspect. She wished to help their cause. She was an ally. He needed to accept that, not continuing to treat her like a miscreant. She was a person like everyone else, and it had been wrong to so hastily judge her. He wouldn't want his entire existence to be placed under one word. _Templar_…

But it was strange, wasn't it? Each time his tongue tasted her name, his face grew warmer. His eyes opened slowly. He came to the realization that he had been touching his lips. Hurriedly, he dropped his right hand. Cullen cleared his throat several times, and tentatively looked around. Right. Sleep. Of course. Whether he had been taken off-guard, or his lack of sleep had caught up with him, she had been right. Just anyone shouldn't be allowed to pin him.

"_But I am beginning to suspect that she isn't just anyone,"_ Cullen thought.

0-0

I can't stop thinking about them! HALP!


	4. Care

Everyone was yelling. Well, not everyone—it only seemed that way. Cassandra and Leliana were practically butting heads over the Herald's decision to allow the Templars to aid them as free allies. The Herald, Josephine, and he remained silent whilst the women nearly shouted out the pros and cons of allowing the Templars to stay as allies. Personally, Cullen agreed with the Herald's decision. Better to have them as equals than subordinates. Or at the very least, think of themselves as equals. It was a good decision. And the fact that she didn't bother to explain her decision meant she knew exactly what she had done.

Cullen spared a glance in her direction. She stood across the table, opposite of him. Her yellow eyes shifted to and from Cassandra and Leliana as they bickered back and forth. She appeared impassive, but there was something about the way her left ear twitched, combined with the arching of her right brow, that made it seem like she was becoming increasingly annoyed. Cullen believed he had gotten quite good at deciphering her ear twitches. When both ears twitched once, it meant she a bit amused. When the right twitched in a rapid manner, it meant she was excited. He had seen that only once when she had discovered the kitchens had served custard as part of breakfast. Oh, and he had seen her left ear twitch three times and her nostrils flare when she was offended, or at the very least restraining herself from backhanding whoever was responsible. He had seen that a couple of times when Chancellor Roderick had wished to speak with her. The Commander had taken quite the pleasure in watching the blood drain from the man's face.

Still, perhaps he should put an end to the arguing before they all experienced the wrath of the Herald up close and personal. Cullen cleared his throat, but it wasn't until he began speaking that the women ceased their argument. "The decision has been made," he said. "There's no use talking about it now. Would you have our Herald go back in time and change it?" All eyes had turned to him. He ignored the slight murderous look Leliana was giving. Perhaps she was still miffed about the Inquisition seeking out the Templars, instead of the mages, in the first place. "What we should be focusing on his finding a way to safely use the mark and the power of the Templars to completely seal the Breach."

"A few dozen veterans are coming ahead of the rest to help seal the Breach," Leliana mentioned as she crossed her arms.

"Great. When should we expect their arrival?" the Herald questioned. Before the hooded woman could answer, a small smokescreen covered the table. A boy popped into existence. With a large hat covering most of the face, the Commander could only guess. It looked like a boy, but Cullen sensed something odd about it. Something chilling that had his body reeling. He did not like the feeling. The boy answered that the Templars were on the way, and remarked that they did not like being late.

"Maker…!" Cullen moved around the table, towards the Herald, and unsheathed his sword. He stood by her side, eyes trained on the unknown. He was ready to run it through. The unknown danger _would not_ get the chance to touch her.

"Wait!" The Herald lightly pressed her fingers against his blade, lowering the pointed end down and away from the danger. Had he not, surely her fingertips would have bled. Cullen grimaced, yet did not take his hard gaze away from the figure dressed in rags. "Cole, you shouldn't startle people like that. Appearing out of thin air isn't going to win you points." She had addressed it with a name?

"I wasn't air. I was here. You didn't see me. Most people don't until I let them," it replied. "Much like you." It moved, jumping from the table. Cassandra ordered for the guards, and Cullen had a mind to follow through with the order. Leliana was curious, however, wanting to know why it had appeared. "You help people," it answered. "You made them safe when they would have died. I want to do that. I want to _help_."

"You do have a useful ability…" the Herald murmured.

"You can't seriously be considering-?!" Cassandra started.

"I'm not considering. Cole will be joining us, and _that_ is final," she interrupted. The room fell to silence. Her voice had lost its usual indifference and had been replaced by frost. She was deadly seriously. More than likely, it had been the first time she had used that voice. Cullen swallowed, slowly sheathing his blade. Her words and voice had made it so that there would be no room for argument.

"I won't be in the way!" The creature, whatever it may be, peered up at the Herald. Its blue eyes seemed approving. "Tiny. No trouble. No notice taken until you want them to."

"Herald…" Cullen turned, facing the horned woman. "You can't-"

"Welcome to the Inquisition, Cole." The Herald _ignored_ him, and nodded her head. "You are free to explore Haven. Do not startle anyone else."

"Yes." Then he disappeared the same way he had appeared. The room, once again, lifted to uproar. The shouting had been muffled to his ears. Cullen could only stare at the Herald as she coolly dismissed any questions in regards to the newest addition to the Inquisition. Something… Something was wrong. This was not normal for her. She had let dangerous agents in the Inquisition before. Always she had an explanation to the questionable people. But not this time. Why?

"Enough…!" The Herald finally hissed. Cullen flinched, as well as everyone else. "You have more important things to worry about. Figure out a way to seal the Breach with my mark and the Templars. Find out who this Elder One is. And see if we can get into contact with the mages. I want a backup plan if something goes wrong." Her lip lifted into a sneer, showing her sharp fang. The very first time she had shown that expression. Anger, yet something else was there just beneath the surface. "Also, if any of you want to argue whether or not Cole is a mistake, then I will have no choice but to take it as a _challenge_. I will fight you _without mercy_, and when I win, there will be no more discussion. _Period_. Am I _clear_?!"

"… Yes, Herald…" Cassandra begrudgingly agreed.

"Yes, Herald," Leliana murmured.

"Yes, Herald," Josephine nodded her head.

Every pair of eyes turned to him. He could feel them, but he was more concerned with the yellow pair of eyes. He sucked in a breath. "… Before I agree… May I have a word?" Cullen asked. The Herald furrowed her brow. She stepped closer, using her height to appear more intimidating. Unfortunately, her height did not matter to him. He refused to step back, and stretched his neck to stare up.

"You want to challenge me, _Commander_?" she asked.

"I would… I would like to have a _word_," he corrected. The room fell silent, watching the tension crackle between rogue and warrior. One could hear the bustle coming from outside the Chantry. Even so, he continued to look into her eyes. He could not hope to read them, but wavering in eye contact did not seem appealing. He had to know. He needed to know. Cullen appeared calm, but his insides trembled. Finally, she opened her mouth.

"Get out and do as you're told," the Herald ordered, keeping her eyes on him. Admittedly, her hard gaze petrified him just a bit. The order had been given to the rest, though. Not him. Her arched brow told him to stay. The others hastily left, not needing to be told twice. After the door slammed shut, she did not say another word. For a few moments, they remained quiet. Feeling enough time had passed, Cullen opened his mouth to speak. However, she beat him. "I can _hear_ you breathing…! If you do not leave in three seconds, I will kick down that door and nail at least two of you!"

With a squeak, that sounded distinctly like Leliana, footsteps hurriedly departed. More moments passed before she finally broke eye contact. She turned her back on him, heading towards the bookshelf. Cullen breathed out a, hopefully, silent shaky breath. He watched the Herald lean against the bookshelf, back pressed against it with her arms folded behind her. Her eyes seemed focused on the floor. Just for a moment. Then he was trapped under her gaze once again. "I-"

"If this has anything to do with Cole, I meant what I said," the Herald interrupted. She narrowed her eyes. "Are you _challenging_ me? Let me warn you… I'll make you _sweat_." Maker… Did she even realize how she had sounded?

"N-No…!" Cullen stammered. He coughed once. "Well, yes, but I did not intend to challenge you. Having Cole join the Inquisition is a slight concern, but that is not my _main_ concern. I will not have you confused, so let me make it clear. I would not listen to you if I thought you incapable. I trust your judgment, Herald. More than I can say." She stared. It made him shift uncomfortable. Then to his surprise, he noticed the freckles on her face become visible. Her shoulders moved up slightly as she averted her eyes for just a moment. That… That was new. Normally, he would have to be very close to see them, but she was on the other side of the room. Then how? Almost as quickly as he had seen them, they vanished again. Her shoulders relaxed and her gaze returned to him. He wondered what it had meant. He would have to make a mental note of it and watch for it later on.

"So then… what is this about, Commander?" she asked.

"I…" Cullen moved closer. Perhaps it had been a subconscious movement. Perhaps he wanted to. He didn't know, but he stood in front of her once again. He could barely make out the freckles on her face from this distance. Good. "There were other circumstances like this. When you recruited Iron Bull that was you allowing a Qunari—a _real_ Qunari—into the Inquisition even after he specifically told you he had been sent to spy on us. Even so, you told us the reasons for that. You had an explanation. When you recruited Sera, whom might I add cannot make a decent report-" That got him a slight smile. Cullen had to hold back his own smile. He coughed again. If he kept that up, she was going to think an illness plagued him. "-you had an explanation for it. Even with her seemingly nonsensical explanation about the Red Jenny."

"Friends of Red Jenny," the Herald corrected. Her left brow arched and her nose twitched. She had been teasing.

"That is not the point," Cullen smirked. Then he grew serious again. He sighed. "Herald, you allow many people into the Inquisition. Some of them have questionable motives. You always have a reason for their joining us. With Cole… Nothing! You used intimidation and aggressive. That is not you. That is not how you get your way. Something happened at Therinfal Redoubt—something you did not mention in your report. What happened between you and Cole that you so adamantly want him with us?"

"Cole…" The tips of her ears flattened, almost touching her head. That was new, too. Hm… Perhaps it had been hesitance? "He saved my life."

"… That can't be all there is, Herald. Please tell me," Cullen urged. He wished to know. So badly. What had made her so disturbed? The Commander stepped forward again. He had an impulse to reach out and give a comforting squeeze to her arm. However, he refrained.

"He…" The Herald frowned. "The Envy demon grabbed a hold of my mind and dragged me to the Fade. He showed me things—images of things and people I knew. It wasn't real. I knew it. Even when you, Josephine, and Leliana appeared. I knew it wasn't real." Cullen noticed her jaw tense. "Right up until Leliana slit your throat." The Commander's lips parted in surprise. "You fell and… and I froze. The demon realize what he had done, and he forced Josephine and Leliana to kill each other. I felt myself screaming." She shut her eyes and turned her head away. "He almost broke me. If Cole hadn't heard me—hadn't intervened—that demon would have gotten what he wanted. I owe my life to him. I… He can prevent something like that from happening again. If I am sent to the Fade again, and something like that happens… Cole can stop it. I trust him to stop it." She suddenly scoffed. "I thought that I was stronger than that. Turns out I'm not strong enough to resist real fear."

Cullen could only watch. She had gone through mental torture. She had seen the death of her advisors, and it had nearly become her undoing. Despite what had happened to her, the Commander could not help but to feel… _touched_. His death—as well as Josephine and Leliana—had the potential to destroy her. Then he cursed himself. How dare he feel pleased when she had suffered? Just as he had. Had he become a person so terrible? "Herald…" Still, the feeling had bubbled within him, and he could not hope to contain how moved he was. "You've been with us for little more than two months, but I didn't think you-" Cullen rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I didn't think we could affect you that way."

"I don't generally go around letting everyone know," the Herald muttered. Her lower lip slightly protruded. Had that been a _pout_? What was this day? She had showed him more expression in the span of five minutes than in the two months she had been in Haven. "To be honest, I didn't realize until Cole broke the demon's hold on me. I didn't know until it had happened. Seeing the three of you dying before my eyes…" Her eyes squeezed shut as though she was attempting to suppress her emotions. Her teeth clenched hard. She was… She was reliving the moment right in front of him. "It _hurt_."

Cullen found his fingers gripping her wrist. Her eyes snapped opened. Clearly, she was stunned by his bold action. Admittedly, he, himself, was a bit taken aback by his own action. He had only want to snap her out of whatever torture she had experienced by the hands of that demon. No one had been around to do the same. No one except Lyrium… He hadn't meant to grab her so suddenly. Throwing caution to the wind, the Commander tightened his grip. "You _are_ strong. You are not someone who will let something take her down a second time. You will not need Cole a second time because that experience has only made you stronger. I believe in you, Herald." Cullen watched as her freckles become more prominent. Her shoulders lifted again and her gaze wavered. He felt his heart skip several beats upon realizing that that had been her way of showing that she was flattered. Quickly, he dropped her wrist. Then coughed twice. Well, he supposed he had been complimenting her quite a bit.

"Cullen," she whispered. He snapped to attention. That had been the first time, in two months, she had referred to him by his given name. Normally, it was 'Commander' or 'big kitten' when she was feeling particularly mischievous. Never by his name. His cheeks warmed and his lips pursed. Her gaze had become softer—softer than he had ever seen. And she had smiled. Was still smiling. "I'm not refusing Cole just because you said all that."

"That wasn't what I-" Before he could finish his sentence, the Herald interrupted by wrapping her arms around him, embracing him tightly. Her cheeks pressed against the top of his head. Her breasts… _Maker_. They were soft, and big, and he could just happily suffocate in them. His ears burned, as did his entire body. If he moved his head just a bit, would that be considered nuzzling her bosom? This level of intimacy from the Herald was unheard of. And… And he wanted more.

"But thank you… I really needed to hear it," she finished. She held on a few seconds more before releasing him. She kept her hands on his shoulders, though. Still smiling. Cullen sincerely hoped his face wasn't as red as he thought it was. "You're an excellent adviser. And I'm sorry for my behavior… I will tell Josephine and Leliana about what happened. It was wrong of me to keep it to myself." Cullen merely nodded, thinking himself incapable of stringing together a proper sentence at the moment. The Herald dropped her arms to her sides. "Then I'll see you in a few." She headed towards the door. The Commander watched her leave, mentally cursing himself. _Fool_…!

He should have hugged her back.

No matter. He had still experienced something exceptional. New expressions, a confession that she like him—_them_, and a tantalizing embrace. "_Akásha_…" The whispered name fell from his lips. Like so many other times, saying her name caused his body to react. Cullen feared he would never be able to say her name in front of her. Not without looking like a fool attempting not to piss himself. _Hm_… He wondered if she had felt nervous as his name had spilled from her lips. _"Or am I the only one to have such thoughts?"_ The Commander rubbed his temple. _"Maker… How did this happen? How did I come to be this much of a fool for her?"_

0-0

I can't even sleep properly anymore because of this story. Send help.


	5. Understand

Cullen tried not to sigh deeply as he watched the recruits. They were wet behind the ears as if they had just picked up the sword today. He understood and admired their determination to help the cause, but if something did not change in the training regime, it would be for naught. At the moment, he supposed he couldn't complain. The Inquisition _needed_ all the help they could get. Recruits, mostly civilians, trickled into Haven almost every day. Cullen narrowed his eyes. He could no longer resist barking out orders. "It's a sword and shield, not a stick and rock! Use it properly! They're _extensions_ of you! If you were fighting a real enemy, you'd be dead!" A few recruits flinched by the volume of his voice. Good. He turned to the Lieutenant at his right. He ordered him to not hold back against the recruits. They needed to be prepared for real battle.

With a salute, the man turned, intending to carry out the order. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure approaching him. The tallest person in the entirety of the village had returned. Of course, he had already received word of her arrival prior to her return. And he had heard whispers as well. The villagers had been chattering that the Herald had been… more _approachable_ since her return. Honestly, he had wondered why. She had been gone for a little more than three weeks. In her absence, many people had come, insisting that they believed in the Herald for she had saved them. She had done good work in the Hinterlands. When she stepped by his side, he informed her of such. "Though none has managed to make the same entrance you have," he commented. He turned to her, and was surprised to her see her features hadn't been as hardened as the last time he had seen her face.

"At least I've gotten their attention," she said. She shrugged with one shoulder.

"That you did," Cullen remarked, almost chuckling. He began to walk. The Herald moved with him. "I, myself, was recruited in Kirkwall. I was there during the uprising. I saw firsthand the devastation that was caused. Cassandra offered me a position. I accepted and left the Templars." A scout handed him a report. His eyes quickly scanned over the words, gaze shifting between the report and the Herald several times. "Now we face something far worse."

"Yes. The world has literally been torn, and yet no one else seems to care who or what caused it. Fighting between mages and Templars. Fighting amongst the Chantry for a new Most Holy. Everything's a mess, and it seems only the Inquisition is attempting to do something about it." Her eyes faced the morning sun. The light revealed the contrast between her grey skin and brown freckles. She understood completely the situation of the world. As he previously mentioned, the Herald had a good head on her shoulders. He could find himself following her without hesitance. The Commander shook his head a bit, handing the report off to the scout. To think in the beginning, he had viewed her as a suspect…

"The Inquisition could act, while the Chantry cannot," Cullen agreed. "Your followers could be a part of that. With you, there's so much we can-" He stopped himself, realizing that he might go on rambling. "Forgive me." He shook his head, and then returned his focus to the horned woman. She had shifted her gaze to him while he had spoken, and had been staring. He felt a bit self-conscious. "I…" He swallowed hard. "I doubt you came here for a lecture." She gave another one-shoulder shrug.

"I don't know. You have quite the voice—all powerful and authoritative. I suppose I wouldn't mind sitting through a lecture if you were the one giving it," she replied. Cullen blinked. She had just complimented him. She liked his voice…? The thought of that made his chest feel a bit tight. Though, perhaps he could deepen his voice a bit in her presence… to appease her. She was the Herald of Andraste, of course. He coughed a bit, hoping it came out as a chuckle.

"Another… Another time perhaps," Cullen suggested. He caught her eyes, but he quickly noticed the quirk of her lips. The smirk then spread to a smile. Maker… _what_? In his ears, he felt his heart pound viciously. He flushed, biting the inside of his mouth. His body, more specifically his face and chest, became hot like a horrible fever had taken hold. "I _uh_…" The Commander tore his eyes away from the Herald. He resisted the urge to rub the back of his head. He cleared his throat again. "There's still a lot of work… to be done…" He awkwardly attempted to turn away. Just in time, to save him of further awkwardness, a scout hurriedly walked his way, report in hand. "As I was saying."

"Just a moment, Commander," the Herald stopped him from following after the scout. He tensed, yet turned to face the horned woman. She was no longer smiling. Her passive face had returned. Admittedly, it had been a bit easier to look at her now. "I understand that you are busy at the moment, but I would like to speak with you. Later tonight, please come to my cabin."

"C-Cabin…?" Cullen repeated. He held back a grimace. Once again, he bit the inside of his mouth. "For what purpose?"

"I want to discuss something with you." Her eyes narrowed just a bit, but he wouldn't call it glaring. "I also don't want anyone else to know. This will be a private conversation, Commander, so come when there is little to no activity in the village." Cullen gulped, wondering what she had planned on discussing with him. Alone. At night. His cheeks grew warmer.

"Y-Yes… Later to-tonight then," he stammered. The Herald's brow arched, but she didn't speak again. She, however, nodded. Then walked away. Maker, he felt like a fool. It wouldn't be so bad if he knew the _reason_ for it. Cullen watched her go. It had been a subconscious action that he had not realized until the scout had gained his attention. The Commander pursed his lips, but followed the scout nonetheless.

So Cullen went about his day. Reading the reports, planning with Josephine and Leliana, watching the recruits train, reading even more reports, writing reports… Occasionally, his thoughts drifted. Despite the task at hand, he thought of the Herald's request. He wondered what she wanted to discuss. He wondered why her features were softer. He wondered a lot about her smile. The image of it, though pleasant, had made him curious. Before she had left, she had been mostly stoic. Light chuckles had escaped her lips before her departure. Both times, he had been the cause. He had thought of her chuckles on numerous occasions during her absence. He… had wanted, almost desperately, to see her smile. Now that she had showed him—so easily showed him—he could not help but wonder the reason.

His mind had wandered quite a bit during the day, shifting from her smile to work and then back again. Night had fallen now, and the village slept. Cullen relaxed in his chair. He stared at the map on the table. New operations had become available. He, as well as Josephine and Leliana, had planned where the Inquisition should focus their efforts. One of their biggest priorities was to build watchtowers in the Hinterlands, but there were many more that took careful consideration before sending out agents. His fellow advisors had left hours ago. He had chosen to remain.

Work was something he could distract himself with. Moving, calculating, and fighting were things he was good at. The lack of sleep did not bother him when he worked. The dreams did not bother him when he worked. More often than not, he would be one of the few who did not immediately go off to bed when the moon rose. Cullen sighed heavily before moving to stand. As of late, there was no night and day to him—just distractions.

He left the war room, mind once again shifting to the Herald. She was also a distraction. A useful one. She continued to find a way into his head. She was rather different from the Qunari he had seen in Kirkwall. She was unexpected. Because of that, she was an enigma. A welcomed presence in his mind. Even if being around her made him feel incredibly sheepish. The night wind hit his face, causing a shiver. As he thought, Haven was quiet. This time of night, many were asleep. Others were- Cullen caught sight of a young man dozing off. Others were _supposed_ to be on guard duty. He supposed he couldn't blame the lax behavior. Haven was relatively safe.

Cullen moved through the village, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Habit, really. One that he hoped would never break. Perhaps if he had had it at the Circle… The Commander shook the thoughts away. His focus returned to… Oh. He had already arrived. The door to the Herald's quarters stared back at him. Cullen suddenly felt small. He wrung his hands before clearing his throat. "Herald…?" He knocked. There wasn't a response. He knocked again, once more calling out her title. Still no answer. "_Hm_…" She had been a bit vague with the timeframe. But surely she wouldn't have forgotten about this. Especially if _he_ had been thinking of it all day.

Steeling himself, Cullen opened the door. The room wasn't lit. It was almost completely dark. The windows had allowed a bit of the moon's light in. Hopefully he could navigate the room without knocking things over. Unfortunately, his luck had seemingly left. He did not see what he had had tripped over, but the end result had sent him crashing into the edge of the bed. Honestly, he could not help the loud groan that escaped. The bed was not soft. Maker, the pain…

Cullen lifted himself slowly, grabbing at his nose. There was no blood. That was something at least. "Where are the blasted candles?" he nearly hissed, eyes darting around. He found one of the light fixtures to the left. Luckily, there were matches on the table. Only struggling a bit, he managed to light it. Sighing, he turned his gaze toward the bed. He tensed in surprise. The Herald slept as though there hadn't been a loud racket in her room. She was curled, almost in a ball like state. Her dark hair was no longer pinned. It fell loosely around her shoulders. Her hair was longer than he expected. Cullen walked around to the side of the bed.

Her normal expression was gone. Her relaxed face was so serene. He blinked. This was her vulnerable state. He had the chance to see it. Her laugh, her smile, and now this. Cullen felt strange. Particularly strange. Soft breaths left her mouth as she continued to sleep. He leaned towards her, watching as her freckles became visible. She had a different type of feel to her now. The villagers had been right. She seemed approachable. And he did not feel so small. The corner of his lips tugged upward. Until her face scrunched up. A soft whine filled the silence as she shifted her head a bit. A nightmare…?

Cullen knitted his brow. He had his fair share of nightmares. He knew what it looked like. Or at least what he had been told. "Herald," he called, attempting to rouse her. She grunted lightly. Her upper lip moved, showing her teeth. "Herald…!" He deepened his voice and placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake. Her eyes snapped open, her breath sharp and heavy. "Herald, you're fine. You're okay," Cullen soothed. He saw her tense jaw gradually relax as did the rest of her body.

"Commander." The Herald sat up, shrugging off his hand. "So you've decided to come, after all."

"I…" He stood to his full height. "I wasn't sure of the time. I apologize if you waited long." She answered his apology with silence. They stared into one another's eyes. It was unnerving because her blank face had returned, but Cullen refused to look away. Refused to appear intimidated by one he had just seen in her helpless state. He frowned, recalling the way she had groaned in her sleep. "How long have you been having bad dreams?" The question had been asked before his mind told his lips to move.

"… Since I woke up in your dungeon," she replied. Cullen was surprised she answered. "But I… can never remember them. I feel like… my brain is trying to restore my memory as I sleep, but when I wake up, all I know is darkness. All those memories are just gone… like my comrades." She bit her lip, and then released a sigh through her nose. "That is why I wanted to speak with you, Commander." Her gaze shifted for a moment before returning to him. "Please have a seat."

"If you insist." He moved intending to sit as told. She sighed before he could, causing him to halt.

"Not on the _floor_, Commander." Cullen flushed. The sheepish feeling had returned full force. The Herald tilted her head, gesturing at the space beside her. "I promise I won't bite." She showed her teeth, smirking. "Much."

"Your words are not encouraging, Herald," he replied. Still, he sat obediently on her bed, hands resting on his thighs. She laughed then. A throaty laugh that sent his mind reeling. It hadn't been the light chuckles he had heard previous, but a genuine laugh that made her eyes crinkle. _Ah_. Now that he thought about it, her eyes had crinkled before when she had smiled at him. Just like before, his body believed that a fever ran through him. Cullen cleared his throat. "Y-You seem to be in a lighter mood since returning to Haven," he addressed. "I've heard the villagers say so as well—that you're more… amicable."

"It's hard to keep the cold persona when you travel with Varric and Cassandra," the Herald replied. Her left shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Those two banter like an old married couple. It's… endearing. Varric has the tendency to makes jokes that are funny. Cassandra makes this disgusted noise with her nose and mouth, and it's too funny not to react. I've… started to become comfortable, so yes, I am in a _lighter_ mood." Her yellow eyes slid back to him. Her lips lost the slight smile. "... About before, Commander. I was rude to you the first time we met… both times. It was wrong of me."

"Herald-"

"No, it _was_ wrong, and I shouldn't have acted that way towards you," she interrupted. "All my life, people have looked at me the way you did. All my life, people have regarded me with suspicion and have called me _Qunari_. I have gotten used to it. I have learned to tolerate or ignore the looks and names." For a moment, her eyes closed. "When I met you, I was emotionally compromised. My comrades—and my men that followed my orders—were gone. I was so angry and confused, and…" She sighed. "The point is that I took that out on _you._ I ignored you. I even threatened you. It was wrong, and I apologize for my previous behavior."

"… Be that as it may, Herald, I was not entirely innocent," Cullen stated. "I labeled you even before I saw you. You _were_ Qunari to me. Later, I treated you like an enemy—or at the very least, a potential one. Because of that, you, to me, didn't have-"

"Feelings?"

"Yes…"

"Then that's something we have in common," the Herald murmured. "In order to kill, you have to erase the person in your target, right?" Slowly, the Commander nodded his head. He had done his duty for years, and that method seemed to be… the only method. "Then… we were both wrong. So let's start over, yeah?"

"Yes, I believe that would beneficial to us both," he replied. He stood up, and then moved a few steps away from the bed before turning to face her. "I am Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition's forces." The horned woman slid off the bed and stood. Cullen lifted his line of sight to keep his eyes locked with hers.

"I am Akásha Adaar, Herald of Andraste… apparently." The Commander smiled a bit. She smiled as well. And his heart leapt. "So now that proper introductions are done, can I ask you a few questions? I would like to more about the people I am working with." Cullen cleared his throat again, and then nodded his head. "Well, come sit back down." As she spoke, she seated herself in a comfortable position, which was her break pressed against the wall and her knees lifted in front of her. He sat back down on the bed as instructed. This time, however, he chose sit comfortably as well. That is, he left his right leg to dangle over the side of the bed while his left was folded in. This way, he could look at her without straining his neck. "_Hm_…" She hummed lightly. "Let's start off with… Where are you from?"

So it when on like that. She asked her questions. He answered them as best he could. When she wanted to know about his role in the Blight… Well, he did not wish to talk about it. The Herald seemed to pick up on his hesitance to speak about the Circle Tower, and so she moved on. She asked about his time in Kirkwall. She called him cheeky for his answer. Then she asked if he knew Varric. "I knew he was friends with the Champion—little else," he replied.

"Oh, but he calls you Curly like you two go way back," the Herald mentioned.

"He gives nicknames to just about everyone," Cullen stated. "Whether it's because he views us as close associates or he's simply too lazy to remember our names—one cannot be sure." She laughed again. "What… does he call you?"

"Freckles," she answered. Cullen frowned, but she didn't notice. She had pinched the bridge of her nose and looked elsewhere. "He saw them once, and now he just can't help himself, so he says." How did that dwarf manage to see them? Varric was shorter than he. He could never be that close to her to see them. Why had he been so close to her? "He calls Cassandra _Seeker_, and Solas _Chuckles_. Though I suspect Solas' nickname isn't quite so literal." She turned back to him, but by then Cullen had stopped frowning. Her gaze lowered, and then moved back up. "Your hair doesn't seem that curly, though." She tilted her head, left horn pressed against her knee.

"… It… It is," he admitted, forcing himself not to visibly tremble. Her eyes still made his body react strangely. "It takes time to make it like this." Cullen nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Before, in Kirkwall, he called my hair… noodle curls."

"_Pfft_…!" He was both mortified and oddly pleased that she had laughed at his confession. Eyes closed and teeth showing, she didn't attempt to hide her laughter. Apparently, she was imagining him with noodles for hair. Or perhaps she found it hilarious that he spent hours combing and brushing his hair. "You're all right, Commander," the Herald said upon stopping her giggles. Cullen coughed and chuckled at the same time. Her compliment made him feel a bit overwhelmed. He swallowed.

"I _uh_… Could I ask you some questions as well?" Cullen asked. She nodded. "What… What is your favorite color?" The blurted question could be contained, and she appeared equally surprised. If he could kick himself, he would. But his body remained stock still. He couldn't even fidget under her gaze.

"_Uh_… Strange question," she remarked.

"So-Sorry, I don't do this often."

"What? Get to know a person?"

"Unfortunately, getting to know someone doesn't usually end well for me," Cullen admitted. He hadn't meant to say it. He hadn't meant to bring up those memories. But they surfaced and swirled in his mind like a black mist. Suddenly, he felt the weight of the bed shift. He lifted his gaze, only to discover golden eyes starting back at him. It took everything in him not to shriek. Literally everything. "Herald…!" Though surprised, he did not rear back.

"Well, we're starting over, aren't we?" she asked, unperturbed by the lack of distance between them. Cullen felt his throat constricting, almost painfully. The fever had come back, seemingly with a vengeance. He could feel sweat forming above his brow. Maker. Send help. He was positive he couldn't resist this woman. "You… I think I'll like you… big kitten." Maker. It was too late for help. But… Big kitten? "So don't be afraid and ask your questions. My favorite color… it's yellow." Like her eyes…?

"Why?" he asked, almost breathless.

"Maybe you will figure it out… one day."

The Herald slowly reared back, sitting across from him. Cullen gulped, watching her lips smile impishly. It would seem that she had a very playful side to her. He would have never guessed it. Yet… Here she was, showing him. Did Cassandra know? Did Varric? Did anyone else know yet? The Commander opened his mouth, unintentionally leaning forward a bit, and asked another question. "You don't know the Qun… Do you believe in the Maker?"

"Let's save the heavy stuff for later, yeah? I rather liked your lighter questions."

"_Ah_. Right…" Cullen shifted uncomfortable, lowering his eyes for a moment. "Then where are you from?"

She answered most of his questions with straight answers. Her other answers were vague. Still, he had learned quite a bit about her. She has a younger sibling. He had told her he has siblings as well. She liked to sing. She had immediately denied his request, insisting that she was no bard. She hated spiders. She had blurted out her hatred, and then had threatened him to keep that secret. She liked to meditate. She had admitted that her father had forced her to do so at a young age, but she still did it out of habit. Her hair was naturally silver. She had not told him the reason for dying it dark. Maybe next time, she had said.

They conversed for quite some time, exchanging small facts about themselves. It was comfortable. Surprisingly. She was an easy person to speak with, despite the fact her expression hardly changed. Either she showed her amusement or she kept her neural look. Cullen had attempted to make her smile. It had worked. They had both talked, laughed, and learned. When they stopped speaking, the silence was not awkward. It felt… nice. Easy. Perhaps the Herald was a distraction to him, but she was quickly becoming more.

"Well-" Her eyes turned from him, looking out of her window. "You should go. Morning is fast approaching."

"Yes." He stood. His body felt a bit stiff for remaining in the same position for how ever many hours. "We could do this again sometime… right?"

"Of course. I'd like that," the Herald replied. She moved, slipping off the bed and standing tall. She smiled at him again, showing teeth. He had blushed and stammered many times during the night, and he still couldn't control his reaction to her smiling face.

"I... I as well," he said. She arched her brow, still smiling. Cullen cleared his throat, swiftly turning his back to her. "Right then. I'll be going." The Commander headed for the door, intending on leaving as stealthily as he could. Who knew the rumors that would come about if he were caught leaving the Herald's dwelling? Just before reaching the door, he stopped. Suddenly, he had remembered how he had found her. "Herald…"

"Yes, Commander?"

"About what you said before… about your men." Cullen turned to face her. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Perhaps you weren't the only survivor. I will send out a few troops to locate any of your comrades that may be lost."

"You'd do that?"

"I would, yes."

"_Hm_." What? What did that mean? "Thank you. If you need anything of _me_, I'll be here."

"Of course…" He wouldn't bother her with his personal problems, though. He shouldn't. "I… couldn't let our Herald be emotionally compromised again. It's better when you're smiling." Realizing what had come from his mouth, Cullen tensed, and then stammered out a quick goodbye. He left just as quickly, slamming the door shut on his way out. He winced, forgetting he had wanted to be cautious on his way back to the Chantry. He walked away briskly, lips pressed together. The cool wind did well in lowering his high temperature. _"You…"_ he thought. His gaze lifted to the sky. The dark of the night was fading. Once again, her smiling face came to mind. _"I think I'll like you as well..."_

0-0


	6. Fall

Breathing in deeply, the Commander kept his body tense. Because he could not relax. Standing, he clutched the edge of his desk with a hard grip. He had awoken with a slight headache. Honestly, he thought it was a simple headache. However, it had gradually become worse. Head pounding, tightness in his chest, he had even vomited earlier. Not the most dignified way of crawling out of bed. During the course of the day, he had sporadically felt the pain. It was so bad that he had gone to Cassandra. They had argued about his position—his capabilities—but the Seeker had been adamant in her judgement. How could she not see he could fail the Inquisition like this? In this state, he was all but useless. Cullen very nearly growled as he threw a book across the room.

The book slammed against the wall and fluttered to the floor. Cullen sighed heavily. He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. A slow shuddering breath left his mouth. Finally, his latest relapse seemed to be fading. His fingers rubbed at his temple. How long had that one been? Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes? He sat back in his chair, feeling exhausted. This couldn't be. This could not continue. He had to be at his at his best for the Inquisition. And this was not his best. He felt ashamed. And angry. And disconcerted.

Cullen leaned back, grinding his teeth. He opened his eyes. The searing headache was gone now, only leaving a dull twinge. That he could handle. Another slow breath left his mouth. He looked to his left. The narrow window revealed that night had fallen. Perhaps some time ago. He hadn't been able to focus much on anything except the pain. Another would come. For a time he had forgotten about it, admittedly. For a time, he had deluded himself into thinking he had been fine. He had pushed it to the back of his mind. But he had only taken one day of misery to bring it all back. As he was, he wasn't fit to be in his position. Cassandra would soon realize that. She had to. Either that, or he would be forced to take lyrium again. He… did not believe he could cope with that decision, however.

A knock at adjacent door abruptly broke through his thoughts. Cullen immediately stood as the door opened. A part of him was surprised to see the Inquisitor. Another part of him recalled that she had walked in on Cassandra and himself. She had interrupted. He remembered making a swift exit because he had not wanted her to see him like that. He must had sensed that he had wished to be alone because she had not followed or sought him out… until now. She must had been mulling over whatever Cassandra had said to her, and her curiosity could no longer be contained. Though, he could not read all that on her face. It had been quite some time since he had had trouble deciphering her expression.

"Inquisitor…" Cullen pressed his lips together for a moment. She had walked over to his desk. She had not shut the door behind her. "Is there something you needed of me?" His voice had shook. One of the aftereffects of coming back from the relapse. Another was slight dizziness. Another was a lack of balance. He did not want her to see any of those. She had called him strong. What would she think after seeing such weakness?

Her eyes watched him for a moment before darting over to the other door to his office. Cullen tensed, realizing that she had focused on the broken box he had thrown earlier. The wooden box had contained his lyrium kit. He had kept it for so long. He hadn't known his reason, but he had kept it this whole time. Today, he hadn't been able to stand the sight of it, and so in a fit of rage, he had thrown it. "I can't sleep," she said. "Do you have some time?" Her gaze returned to him, staring at him expectedly.

"Of course." It had been an automatic reply. She had asked that question many times in the past when she wished to speak to him. That had always been his answer. Cullen moved around his desk to stand by her side. She turned and sat upon his desk while he chose to remain standing. "Is there anything in particular that you wanted to discuss?" he questioned. He already knew. She had to have questions—concerns—about earlier.

"I notice, you know?"

"Notice what?"

"I notice you staring at me."

Cullen imagined that if he had been drinking, he would have coughed, sputtered, and choked. Instead, his face grew warm. He felt the heat spread to even the tips of his ears. She had noticed? For how _long_? It didn't matter how long. She had discovered his—not so secret—secret of watching her. He couldn't help himself. His gaze always managed to find her when they were in a room together. And his eyes always lingered far longer than it should because of his thoughts. She had found out something he would rather take to his grave. "Inquisitor…! I-I am sorry if I have offended you. I do not mean to—I just-"

"It's fine, Commander," she replied with a wave of her hand. "I know I appear different from the many others in the Inquisition. It's normal for people to stare." She looked his way. "Though… _your_ staring unnerves me somewhat." Before he could question why, she continued. "Because when I do catch you staring, it's always at my horns. You're curious about them." Thank the Maker those were the only times she caught him. There were many times, he knew, that his gaze hadn't been curious. Not at all. "The question seems to be at the front of your mind, but you never ask it. I never provoke you into asking either." The Inquisitor shifted a bit. "Cullen, off the record, I want to tell you what happened. I want to tell you what happened to my horn."

"You do not have to-"

"I want to," she cut in. She bit her lower lip. "Can't I share with a friend?"

"You can," Cullen answered. "I didn't mean to seem like I do not wish to hear. Please, speak your mind, Akásha."

She folded her arms over her chest and averted her gaze. Cullen almost protested. Almost. Then she began to speak. "I was just a child when it happened. My first encounter with humans. As you know, my parents raised me on the outskirts of towns and villages. We were always moving, though. Before then, I had never met a human. Before then, I didn't know I was… different." Already, possibilities of where her story was going entered his mind. Cullen frowned, watching Akásha's nails dig into her arm. "I foolishly wandered into the village one day. Father and mother were hunting, and I was bored. I remember… being amazed by all the people. I had only known my parents, and so seeing humans for the first time—it was exciting. But then, they noticed me. That day, I was called ox-child. That day, I saw fear… and hatred. For me. Because I had horns, or so I thought… Later, my father found me crying. I was about to cut off my second horn."

"Wait… You mean, _you_…?"

"Yes. I didn't want to be different. I used one of my mother's daggers and I cut off my own horn. I thought that if I didn't have horns, then the people wouldn't look at me that way. I had never seen such expressions before. They scared me," Akásha explained. "My mother tried to convince me that my horns were beautiful and that I should never part from them. They made me special, she said... But I… was still hurt."

Cullen wanted so badly to comfort her. She was bringing up unpleasant memories of her own accord. Memories that she most likely wanted to stay buried. Akásha continued speaking, telling him of the many times she had encountered humans. How the many times she had interacted with humans, she would suffer from their looks, words, and sometimes physical violence. All before the age of fifteen. Horrible. No child should have to go through that. Though horrible, it was not unexpected that she had to go through those things. People feared what they did not understand. He, himself, fell prey to not understanding. Had Akásha been in Kirkwall, he would have lumped her in with the rest of the Qunari.

"So then… you dying your hair comes from your need of acceptance?" Cullen asked.

"Yes, but the hair dying didn't come into play until… adolescence," she responded. Her shoulder lifted. "My family settled down in this really small village for a while. The villagers accepted my family surprising. And the boys seemed to like dark hair, so I… tried to make myself more attractive to them. Didn't work, and my parents were devastated. They both had doted on my silver hair."

"I could imagine why…"

"… Well, maybe one day you won't have to imagine." She smiled then, relaxing as though she hadn't relieved her childhood. It was a small smile, but it still showed Cullen how far she had come from those painful years. She had overcome her past, and was now looking to a future. Her strength knew no bounds. Her arms fell from their locked position as she stood. She took a few steps forward and clasped her hands behind her back. "Do you know why I told you all that, Cullen?"

"… To prove a point?"

"To let you know I trust you… deeply," Akásha corrected, turning to face him. "Cassandra, and now you, are the only ones besides my parents who know that about me. I wasn't always strong. I had to crawl through this world to reach this point." She bit her lower lip again. "I wanted to tell you because I wanted you to know how… how much I trust you. I had hoped you felt the same."

"I _do_…!" Cullen blurted. "Without a doubt I trust you."

"Then talk to me," she whispered. The warrior blinked, slightly confused. Her arms dropped. "Cassandra told me what you two were arguing about this morning. She informed me that you have… uncertainties about her judgment." Oh… Of course. "I want to hear it from you, Cullen. Talk to me." The Commander stared at her for a few moment, honestly debating on whether or not he should. Of course he should. She had just done the same.

"I never meant for _this_ to interfere," he began. The memories flooded his mind, twisting and morphing into the dreams that plagued him. Before, she had asked him what had gone on with Fereldan's Circle. He had given a response that had not satisfied her. Now, the truth came from his mouth like regurgitation. He couldn't stop. He told Akásha in graphic detail what had happened. Abominations had taken over. His comrades—_friends_—had been slain mercilessly. He, the survivor, had been tortured. He explained how they had tried to break him. How they had laughed at his fruitless pleas. How they had… nearly drove him to madness. They had nearly broke his spirit, using their magic to produce images of his friends dying over and over again. Their screams still haunted him.

Cullen turned his back to her, and so he did not see her reaction. He couldn't bear to look at her. Not now. But the words still came, moving on to his time in Kirkwall. He described how he had watched his Knight-Commander descend into madness, and yet he had done nothing. Perhaps if he had, he would not have had to watch innocent people die in the streets. He paced back and forth, memories becoming more vivid in mind. He recalled killing innocent mages, and their sympathizers, simply because he had been ordered to. He would live with the weight of their blood until his dying day.

His shaky breaths could not be contained. He glanced at her as he passed. For the most part, she appeared unfazed by his tale. But he had noticed the rigidity of her jaw. Cullen leaned against the bookshelf for support. His body felt heavy. Squeezing his eyes shut, he continued. He told her that he had believed the Inquisition would be better. It should be, but his own thoughts hindered him. The symptoms of his withdrawal from lyrium would not leave him. His left hand began pulling books from their place, dropping them to the floor. A subconscious effort to distract himself. He could feel the anger and desperation churn within him as he spoke. The effort did not work. "I should be _taking it_!" he nearly roared. He punched the wood. It cracked under the force. There was no pain in his hand, but so much pain in his chest. Almost his entire weight leaned against the shelf. "I should… I should be taking it."

His chest throbbed and his body trembled. Maker, he felt _drained_. As though he could collapse at any moment. Cullen lifted his hand to rub his forehead. The vein had bulged with the blood running so quickly. He must have appeared deplorable. Weak. Insecure. Hopeless. Because that is what he felt. He swallowed hard. He still did not want to look at her, afraid of what her reaction might be. "… How dare you?" Slowly, his eyes opened. Had he heard correctly? The warrior turned, focusing his eyes on the Inquisitor. Her head was bowed, and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. Her shoulders shook. But that was not laughter she was attempting to hold back. "How _dare_ you?!" Now that he was focused on Akásha, he understood her clearly. She… She was angry? Admittedly, that was not the reaction he had been expecting. She lifted her gaze, and he saw fire in her eyes—the wild heated look was directed at him. He hadn't seen it since that night in the dungeons. Cullen stumbled back, but not far. His back pressed hard against the bookshelf as she advanced on him. "Do you even _know_ who you are?!"

"I _uh_… _um_-" It was getting increasingly harder to breath. His eyes darted to her hands, which had gripped the lower shelf where his sides were aligned. He had been trapped by her arms. A familiar position he had been placed in for certain. He met her fierce gaze again. He did not understand why she had become like this. All dark and threatening. But like before, he could not help but feel a bit… aroused.

"You are Commander-_fucking_-Cullen! The leader—_esteemed _leader—of the Inquisition's forces!" Akásha sneered. "You don't get to come so far and go through _so much_ just to quit! _My_ Commander doesn't _get_ to quit! And what? Should be _taking_ it?" Her voice sounded cold. In the sense that she had been in the cold for far too long. Her voice _shivered _with suppressed emotion. For him. "My Commander does _not_ need some_thing_ to keep him strong—to keep him sane! He does not need _anything_ to pick himself up! He… You are _so much_ more. You _will be_ so much more. If you have to struggle, then struggle. If you have to take the pain, then _so be it_. Do whatever the _fuck _it is you need to do, but you will _not_ take lyrium."

Cullen bit back a sharp gasp. He realized that he was panting along with her. "I… But… these memories have… always… always haunted me. If they get worse or—if I can't endure-"

"You will not endure," Akásha said. "You will _fight_. You will win! Because you are _stronger_ than any demon, whether they be real or personal." Her voice dropped low, soft like a whisper. "I believe in my Commander… more than I can say."

He pressed his lips together, breathing harshly through his nose. Sweet Andraste. This woman… How could such a woman be sent to _him_? In his mind, he had for quite some time cared deeply for Akásha. Now… He knew in his heart that he _loved_ her. He loved the strong, beautiful, and brutal woman that believed in him when he did not believe in himself. He loved her. He loved her. He loved her. And he wanted so badly to kiss her. But… That was wildly inappropriate. She'd probably smack him if he tried. Maybe. Maybe one day he would find the courage to try.

"Y-Yes… all right," Cullen murmured. Akásha narrowed her eyes. "I will." The intensity of her gaze finally softened. Slowly, she stood to her full height, lowering her arms. "I will not fail you… or myself. I am… your Commander." With her words, her ardent aggressive words, Cullen felt like he could overcome this obstacle. She had been right, of course. He did not need something. He needed some_one_... Her.

"Good. Good to hear," she said. "Well, I should go…"

"Inquisitor."

"Commander."

For her, he smiled a bit. For him, she returned the smile.

0-0

A short one, but I'm still thinking about them. My other stories are suffering.


	7. Trust

The entire village was celebrating. The Breach had been completely sealed. People were dancing, cheering, and praising both the Herald and Andraste. The Maker, too, of course, but mostly those two. Most, if not all, were so thankful. So grateful. Cullen felt the same. He did. But here he was, standing on the Chantry steps, watching the celebration from afar. More specifically watching the Herald. His eyes seemed to dart to her position repeatedly. She sat on the roof of her cabin, one leg dangled over the side while the other was lifted. Her arm rested against her raised knee. He couldn't make out her expression from his position, but he believed there was a slight smile on her face. She had accomplished a miracle. Even if she did not believe in the Maker, she had to believe that what she had done had been nothing short of a miracle.

He wanted to thank her. She had been thanked so many times for her deeds. Cullen wondered if he were to thank her as well, would she become a bit irritated. She must have received many thanks already. Perhaps she wanted peace for now…? But he wanted to so badly to speak with her. Frustrating. Perhaps he should wait until the celebration died down. In the dead of night, that is when he usually spoke with her. The Commander rubbed the back of his head as his eyes, once again, found her. _"Maker, why is this so hard?"_ he thought.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were nervous about something."

The familiar voice caused him to halt the pacing he hadn't realized he had been doing. Cullen looked to his left, and then down. Varric Tethras stood beside him with a smug grin on her face. The Commander dropped his arm and pursed his lips. "Varric," he greeted. Then cleared his throat. "Did you need me for something?"

"_Hm_… Yes and no," the dwarf vaguely replied. "Wasn't necessarily looking for you, but I figure since you're pacing about, I find out what in Thedas is freaking you out so much."

"What? Nothing," Cullen protested.

"Come on, Curly. No one paces like that over nothing," Varric retorted. "I'm pretty good at reading people, and I say you've got a bit of a problem on your hands. Something is making you anxious… or should I say… someone?"

"No…!"

"_Ahh_, and there it is!"

Maker's breath. He had answered too quickly. Varric had a 'knack for reading people,' as he so eloquently put it previously. He, himself, had just given the dwarf a confirmation. But a confirmation meant that he previously thought… certain things. "I do not know what you speak, Varric," Cullen said, narrowing his eyes. The rogue paid no mind and continued to grin. The Commander turned away. "If there's nothing, then I shall take my lea-"

"Hold your horses, Curly! I just want to talk," Varric interrupted. "In fact, I want to help your situation."

"Help…?" Cullen repeated incredulously. He turned to face him, eyeing him suspiciously. "Help is not needed. There is no situation _to_ help."

"Don't be like that—we're friends!"

"We are not."

"Close associates, then," Varric rolled his eyes. "The point is, I can help you with your little problem."

"I don't have a little problem," Cullen said, though his heartbeat had begun to pound in his ears.

"Well, I'd say _big_ problem, but that'd probably be a bit offensive to our Herald." The Commander felt himself flush. So the dwarf did know. Damn. He had believed he'd been careful. How had Varric found out? "It just so happens that I know a few words to get her heart racing." Despite himself, Cullen kept quiet. He had never read any of Varric's stories, but he knew the dwarf could spin a tale. Knew he had a way with words that captivated audiences. Perchance, could he speak words that would move the Herald? Make her look at him differently? As he now looked at her… "You could try asking if she wanted to play the Tevinter soldier and the Qunari dreadnought. While you lay down, she can blow the hell out of you."

"What?" Then the meaning behind Varric's words sank in. "What?!" The repeated question came equipped with heat in his cheeks. "I'm not asking her-!" he sputtered. "An-And she is no-no Qunari!" The dwarf ignored him.

"You could accomplish a great military feat if you casually invaded and conquered the Qunari. A great many of men would be proud to call you the greatest."

"Varric…!"

"You could also say-"

"No!" Cullen bit out.

Varric only snickered, apparently finding the whole situation hilarious. "You know, I seem to recall you telling Hawke one time that all Qunari were heretics, and that they needed to be watched because they were a danger to everyone," he continued. He, once again, ignored Cullen when he tried to repeat that she was not Qunari. "So this is progress. You making bedroom eyes at Freckles. It is remarkable."

"I do not!" Cullen lied. "And where did you hear this?!"

"A little spirit happened to say some cryptic things," Varric answered, shrugging. "I just happened to put the pieces together." The warrior frowned. That blasted Cole, he thought. A frown crossed his face. "Look, Curly, it's not a bad thing. In fact, I say go for it. She's not going to wait forever. With the big hole in the sky closed, it won't be long before she returns to her life before the Inquisition. Or someone else takes her away from reach."

"I cannot fathom why you are telling me this, Varric."

"Just take it my advice and go to her, Curly, before it's too late. It's only a matter of time before she leaves the Inquisition," he explained. "I also hear that some guy likes to read poetry to her. Perhaps she's itching to get back to him?" Cullen frowned. He had read that certain letter addressed to the Herald before giving it to her. So he knew the words Varric spoke were partially true. "If you wait around long enough, chances are you won't have a chance. Like I said, I only want to help."

The dwarf took his leave, leaving Cullen to glare at his departing back. If Varric knew, did anyone else know? Had he gossiped to anyone who would listen? It didn't seem like it had reached anyone's ears so far. The Commander bit the inside of his mouth, returning his gaze towards the rest of the village. Towards the Herald specifically. She still sat on her roof, but her eyes had lifted to the skies. Cullen found himself moving forward. His legs took him right to her cabin.

She had not noticed him yet. "Herald," he called up to her. Immediately, her golden eyes fell upon him. Her lips curled in a small smile, and Cullen's insides flopped. She stood, and then jumped from the roof. Right in front of him, she stood up straight. "I… _um_… wanted to speak to you. Well, thank you, actually."

"Oh…? I've gotten plenty of those," the Herald replied with a one-shoulder shrug. "But it is my pleasure, Commander, to accept your thanks." Cullen had a rough time fighting back a blush. He averted his eyes for a moment and coughed lightly. "Walk with me for a moment," she requested, motioning with her head. The Commander nodded, and then fell into step with her. "Though I've accepted thanks, I feel that this is only a… minor victory. There are still rifts that need closing. The investigation on who exactly caused the Breach is still ongoing. And there's still no word from the mages…"

"I agree," Cullen stated. "It feels like a beginning." He glanced at her horns, and then her face. "With you already knowing this… does it mean you will be staying for the time being?"

"I don't like not finishing things," the Herald stated. "So until everything has been settled, I suppose the Inquisition's stuck with the big, scary Qunari as its symbol." Cullen felt the tug of his lips. "What about you, Commander? Have any plans to leave?"

"None. I'll see this through to the end," he said. She smiled again, seemingly glad to hear it. Cullen could help but to recall Varric's words, though. "_Uh_… Could there be anyone you left behind, though? In your mercenary group? Do you want to go back to them?"

"Someone?" she repeated. Cullen swallowed hard, not wanting to clarify what he meant. "Well… they are my comrades, but they can take care of themselves. They don't need me." The Herald stopped. They so happened to end the walk right where he had been pacing earlier. "I was their captain, though. I doubt they viewed me as a friend."

"So… there isn't anyone that has your interest?"

"Are you asking if I'm married or have a lover?"

"… Yes…?" Cullen cleared his throat, feeling increasingly nervous. This is not how he pictured this conversation going. "I mean, I wondered if there was anyone special to you that we might have to pick up later on… to protect them."

"_Nah_, no one like that," the Herald answered. She looked away for a moment, so she did not see the reaction. Cullen felt himself grin widely. He had to force himself to stop before she looked his way again. "Well, I've never thought to take a lover when I was captain…" She appeared deep in thought. Then her gaze fell on him again. "But that is a thought. I didn't think to bring in my family for protection. They live in a small village, and I don't want them targeted. I'll ask Leliana if she can send a few scouts there."

"Allow me," Cullen requested. "A small group of my troops can escort them safely."

"You've already done so much for my men. I couldn't ask you to-"

"They are your family, Herald. I would do so much and more if it means you do not have to worry." She stared at him then, expression unreadable. Cullen shifted nervously, about to turn away, but then he noticed her cheeks had darkened, revealing her freckles. Her shoulders lifted. Clear signs that she was flattered. It was… She was… endearing. The Commander coughed, attempting to hide a smile.

"Thank you… Cullen," she murmured, shifting her gaze for just a moment. The warrior sucked in a breath. It had been the second time she had used his name. When her eyes returned to him, her cheeks were not has dark. "But let me send a letter first. They might not have to be escorted in the first place." She bit her lower lip. "What about you? Did you leave anyone back in Kirkwall? Friends? A wife? _Husband_?" Her eyebrows nearly danced with mischief.

"What? _No_! Maker's breath!" She laughed, showing teeth. Of course she had been teasing. Cullen sighed, suppressing his own chuckle. "No, as you know, my family is in Fereldan. I made few friends in Kirkwall. I… wasn't good company back then."

"There's no one that has _your_ interest then?"

"No one… in Kirkwall," he stated. The Herald's shoulders lifted again, but this time both of her ears twitched rapidly. If her earrings had been any bigger, they would have clang together. Cullen wondered what her reaction meant. Rapid ear movement meant she was excited, but to have them both do so combined with the shoulders lifting? He could not understand. It would be something to look out for in the future. He opened his mouth to continue the conversation, but footsteps approached, causing her eyes to shift behind him. He, too, turned. Cassandra walked their way. She must have come from the Chantry.

"Cassandra," the Herald greeted.

"Herald, may I have a word?"

"Well…"

"Oh, don't mind me," Cullen said. "I was just leaving." His eyes glanced at the horned woman. "Another time, perhaps?" She slowly nodded her head, and then gave her full attention to the Seeker. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the Herald as he departed. It had been a minor victory for him as well. So there hadn't been anyone, after all. Good. That was good. And he had finally flirted with her without sounding like a fool. He wondered if she had realized.

Cullen walked into the Chantry, taking a final glance before letting the door shut behind him. He sighed as he moved towards the war room. As it were, the victory was theirs, but the war was not yet won. As she had stated, there were many things left to do. He would celebrate later perhaps. For now, he would work on new operations. The Inquisition would need a new focus now that the Breach had been sealed. Before he could make it to the war room, however, a scout intercepted him, looking panicked.

"Ser…!" He appeared out of breath. "News! Marching! Haven! Danger! No banner!"

"Speak clearly," Cullen ordered, though his body had already tensed in anticipation. His mind connected the words, and realized what the scout had been trying to get out. "Go! Warn the village! Gather the troops!" He turned his body, heading for the doors. He forced the Chantry's door open, and they knocked against their adjacent walls. Cassandra and the Herald turned to him, startled, but his eyes were elsewhere. The mountains were covered with fire, most likely from torches. The fire marched in sync. An army. An army was moving towards Haven. Bells began ringing—signaling the emergency. The people began to panic. Running around with no clue what to fear. He had to stop this before it got out of hand. "Enemy forces approaches! To arms!"

The recruits nearby had heard his shout and began running towards the entrance of the village. He, too, began moving hastily through the village, commanding his soldiers to rally. Cullen made it to the barricade. Something was trying to get through, but the door held. The Commander narrowed his eyes. Seconds later, Cassandra was by his side. Though she only said his name, he understood she wanted to know what was happening. He pointed, explaining that a massive force was fast approaching. And they marched under no banner.

The banging of the door distracted him from speaking more. A voice, male, had requested the door be opened. The Herald moved, and Cullen drew his sword, following her. The doors opened, revealing a man. He held a staff—a mage. Despite how far he'd come from the Fereldan's Circle, his body still recoiled slightly. Bodies lay scattered around the mage as he panted. A hand on his shoulder made him relax, if only for a bit. He glanced at the Herald out of the corner of his eye. She kept her gaze on the unknown mage.

Cullen sheathed his blade as the mage stood from his knees. He stumbled a bit, causing the Herald to leave his side. She helped him stand. "You must be the Herald everyone's raving about. Not as scary as other Qunari I've seen," he remarked. The Commander frowned, stepping a bit closer.

"Who are you?" he questioned. That accent of his sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Pardon my rudeness. I am Dorian Pavus," he introduced himself. Then his expression turned grim. He explained what had happened in Redcliff. Mages were now under the command of the force known as Venatori. A woman called Calpernia led them in service to the Elder One. Cullen and the Herald exchanged a look. "Right then… I suppose you already know about the Elder One. So much for the warning. Risked my life to do that and everything!"

"Commander! Plan?"

"Trebuchets," he answered. She understood, for her lips curled into a wicked grin. The Herald turned hard eyes on the mountain. Her gaze darted all over, formulating targets. The Commander turned to his troops, removing his sword once again. This would be a hell of a battle. They were not prepared, but taking control of the battle now would result in minimum carnage later. He barked out orders to the soldiers. They immediately dashed, intending to carry out the orders.

"Cassandra, Blackball-!"

"It's Blackwall," the bearded man grumbled.

"-Solas! With me…!" The Herald continued as though she hadn't heard the Warden speak. "Let's go bring down this army! Everyone else, besides the soldiers helping, get to the Chantry!" She finally looked his way. "Commander…"

"May the Maker be with you," Cullen said.

"May the Spirits give you strength," she returned with a slight smile.

0-0

Cullen was shaking. He couldn't stop. It was not because of the biting cold. His very core trembled with apprehension. So he kept moving. Kept trudging through the snow. Ignoring anyone that told him to rest. Rest? Rest?! Their Herald was _gone_. She could very well be buried with Haven. Could be losing her breath. Could be so cold and _dying_. Why should he stop when the most important person to the Inquisition had been left behind? She had been left so that they may escape. It had worked. He had watched the entire village become covered in rock and snow. He had watched in horror as the realization hit. The Herald had buried herself as well.

That had all happened hours ago. The knot in his stomach had yet to go away. It had only been a mere twenty minutes since he, Cassandra, and a few scouts had left the campsite to search for the Herald. Leliana had deemed enough time had passed to do so, but in her mind, she must have lost faith. He had seen the way the spymaster's eyes had clouded when she let them go. Even Josephine did not appear too confident. Not him. Though, he was in a constant state of anxiousness, Cullen knew that he would find her. He had to find her. He _had_ to. She… She had to be alive. _"Maker… please let her be… waiting… alive and waiting for me… Please."_

"Cullen… Cullen…!" Cassandra caught his attention. He did not falter, but he did look at the warrior woman. "Perhaps we should turn back," she suggested. The Commander furrowed his brow. "If we venture too far away from camp, we could be lost."

"If we go _back_," he spat, unable to control his ire. "There goes our best chance of defeating whatever attacked us in the first place! Our Herald will not be killed! She was sent to us in our darkest hour, and if we abandon her now, we might has well smother the rest of the light!" Cassandra narrowed her eyes and frowned. Cullen turned away from her questioning gaze and continued onward. "Go back if you must, but _I_ won't-!" He stopped, a faint light catching his eye. It was a green light, reflecting off his armor. Green… The Commander lifted his gaze, and his breathe left him. Through the harsh wind of flakes and ice, he saw her. Her tall shadowed figure, visible only because of the glow emitting from her left hand, slowly stumbled across snowbank.

Cullen felt as though his heart had been revived. The knot in his stomach faded as his feet moved. Slowly, at first, and then quickened until he was running. "Akásha!" His shout had caused her head to snap up. She lowered her marked hand. As he came closer to her, he could make out her features. She had a bruised cheek and dried blood caked under her left eye. Also, she held her right arm awkwardly. But. Alive. Alive! He saw her lips move, but did not hear over the howling wind.

The last of her strength left her and she fell to her knees. Cullen made it to her before she collapsed completely. Her weight came down on him, causing him to grunt. He turned quickly, careful to avoid touching her right arm. Around his shoulders, he draped her arm. He pulled her close, gripping her waist. "Cullen…" she whispered. He could feel her warm breath against his cheek. She lifted her head, tired eyes boring into his. "I knew it… You found me…" It felt as though his throat had swelled. He could not swallow properly.

"You-"

"Thank the Maker…!" Cassandra's voice interrupted. Cullen looked to discover she had caught up, as well as the other members of the search party. "I'll help-"

"No, I have her. She's hurt," he responded, shifting his weight so that he could walk comfortable as he carried the Herald. _"I have you…"_

"Cullen, you…"

"Go ahead of me!" he nearly barked. "She needs a healer at the ready!" The warrior actually flinched before nodding her head. She turned to the scouts ordered the end of the search. Cullen began to walk, following at a much slower pace. "You… You had me worried," he mumbled.

"How do you… thi-think I felt," the Herald panted lightly. Seconds, maybe minutes, away from drifting. "Another minute and… and… Thank you, Cullen. Truly, thank you." Her lips lightly pressed against his temple. Though chapped from the storm, her lips were quite warm. In order to return the gesture, Cullen turned his head, slight smile on his face—first time after the chaos had begun—and stretched his neck to reach her lips. He abruptly stopped, realizing what he had been about to do. The Commander sharply turned his head away, eyes barely focusing on the path in front of him. He coughed.

"Y-Yes," he stuttered, abashed. "I…" His body tensed again. He hadn't even noticed how relaxed he had become. Heat spread throughout his body, becoming conscious of how close they were. Cullen tried hard not squirm. He had only ever been this close to her in his more amorous dreams. He cleared his throat. "As I said before… I would do so much and more. Your thanks is not needed… but appreciated, Herald." She chuckled lightly, resting her head against his.

"You really are… someone quite amazing, Commander."

"… Rest now. There are many things we need to discuss later."

"_Hm_." He felt her nod once before she should her head. "I'll rest later. I have to tell you what I've learned. Lend me your ear, yeah?"

0-0

Cullen stood waiting in anticipation. As did everyone around him. They all knew what was about to happen. They all hoped it was about to happen. He watched as the Herald and Cassandra spoke on top of the stone steps. Then Leliana held out the sword, the symbol of the Inquisition's leader. The very symbol of the Inquisition itself. The Herald simply stared down at the sword, lips unmoving. _Take it_, Cullen thought. She was meant to. He truly believed it. The Commander saw her lips purse before she wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the sword. He swallowed hard as she lowered the blade, hand still gripping the hilt.

She turned her back on Cassandra and Leliana, facing the crowd that had gathered. Her chest swelled as she took in a long breath. Her lips parted to release the air she had taken in. She addressed the crowd.

"Some of you may be frightful of me because of my appearance. Others may be in awe of me because I stepped out of the Fade," she began, using a loud voice. Not that she needed to. The murmurs of the crowd had died as soon as she had taken the sword. "Despite what you think of me, I _will_ stop the monster that attacked Haven. This Corypheus caused the destruction of our home. He beat us down, and then _mocked_ our efforts. I will _not_ allow that to happen again. I will stop him. I will _end_ him! And I will right this world not as a Qunari, but as a _person_. I do not stand for the Qunari. I do not fight for the elves, dwarves, or humans. I stand _and fight_ for the people, the individuals, of Thedas. I stand for _all of us_!"

The crowd burst with cheers, elated by her words. Cullen, himself, felt the same. He was proud. It hadn't been the first time he felt such overwhelming pride—the first being when he had joined the Templar Order—but it certainly felt as though _this_ was the first time. To be a part of something as great as the Inquisition. To be following someone as great as the Herald. It was… truly- "Commander…!" The crowd hushed and turned their attention to him. Cullen focused completely on the Herald as she stared down at him. "What does the Inquisition say?"

He smirked, feeling that pride grow. The Commander moved away from the crowd, only to stand before them. "Inquisition, your Herald has spoken!" He used his 'powerful and authoritative' voice that she liked. "Will we follow her?" The crowd lifted their fist and shouted agreements. "Will we fight for her?" Their shouts grew in sound. "Will we stand with her?!" Again, his question was met with excited cheers. "Will we triumph because of her?!" Their shouts equaled the sound of a thousand drums, and could very well shake the foundation of Skyhold. Though, he could have sworn he heard someone exclaim '_Yas_, bitch, _yas_!' Once they settled, Cullen turned, shifting his gaze up. The Herald smiled down at him. "The Inquisition has answered!"

"Then I am honored to be your Herald, your leader, your _Inquisitor_!" She thrust the blade towards the skies, and Cullen found himself doing the same with his own sword. Cheering for the Inquisition's leader. "Now let me hear you _roar_!" At her command, the crowd let out a riotous cheer. Even Josephine screamed, letting the energy take her as well. She stopped, once she realized she still had an image to uphold. Laughing a bit to himself, Cullen returned his eyes back to the Herald. She was looking at him as well. She moved her head, motioning for him to come up.

The Commander moved up the steps, followed by Josephine. The Herald, and her advisors, continued up to enter the building whilst Cassandra chose to remain outside. They spoke about the enemy, Corypheus. However, they knew little of his intentions, even less when it came to what he truly wanted. Varric did appear and suggested speaking with one of his sources. Apparently the source had encountered Corypheus before. He then went on his way, but not before winking at him and gesturing to the Herald. Cullen would have kicked the dwarf had they been alone.

The Herald let out a long sigh. "For now, let's get settled in," she said. "Find a spot, rest if you can, and I'll see you in the morning. My advisors get first pick."

"And what will _you_ be doing?" Leliana asked, curiously.

"Getting my pick, of course," the Herald replied, shrugging with one shoulder. "I'll also explore this place, maybe find some place suitable for a war room."

"Yes, Inquisitor," Josephine nodded, and then walked off. Leliana did the same. Right. She was the Inquisitor now.

"_I suppose I should start referring her as such,"_ Cullen thought. "Hera—_ah_, I mean, Inquisitor—do you have a moment to talk?"

"I suppose exploring could wait," she replied. "What is it?"

"… I wanted to apologize."

"For what?" She furrowed her brow as though confused.

"At the Chantry, my suggestion to spite the enemy… It was not my proudest moment," Cullen explained. "That mage, Dorian, he was right. I shouldn't have thought-"

"Don't worry about that, big kitten," the Inquisitor interrupted. "We were _all_ shaken by what happened."

"Still, it was a mistake. I am the Commander of your forces. I should not falter nor waver like that ever again. I _won't_… do that again," he told her. "What happened at Haven, I won't allow to happen again. You will not be a sacrifice again for as long as I am breathing. You have my word." He saw her suck in a breath and hold it. Her freckles came to view. Ah. He liked seeming them.

"I'll… take you at your word then," she replied, dipping her chin. Her gaze fell for a moment before returning to him. "_Um_… When you found me on the mountain, you called my name." Cullen flinched. Had he? Oh, he had. He had been so relieved to see her that he completely disregarded how saying her name normally made him feel. "Very few address me with my given name."

"I apologize if that was presumptuous of me! I didn't mean to offend!"

"What? No!" the Inquisitor exclaimed. She breathed out. "No… I just… I liked it. I liked that you said my name. It doesn't always have to be Herald or Inquisitor… You can call me by name if you'd like."

"Oh, I see… Then perhaps I will." He shifted his weight from side to side, clasping his hands in front of him. He suddenly felt a lot younger than his age. "Akásha." She smiled and a shiver went through him.

"Good…" she murmured. "I hope it wasn't bold of me to call you by your first name."

"No, I… I liked it, too…" Cullen let out a nervous chuckle as his palm slid against the back of his neck.

0-0


	8. Sway

Once again, Cullen tugged at his collar. He was uncomfortable, physically and mentally. Without a doubt, he could say he despised gatherings like this. The airs these people put on. The masks. The Game. _Puh_…! It was all ridiculous. He would rather be sweating over a dangerous opponent than sweating over how… how he wore his shoes. The Commander of the Inquisition shifted uneasily. Several women—and men—had been openly staring at him. It agitated the life out of him. _Maker, give me strength_, he had thought more than once.

However, he understood that this was necessary. The Inquisition was in attendance at the Winter Palace due to a would-be assassin hiding amongst the guests. The target was Empress Celene. And instead of heeding their warning, the woman decides to throw a party. He could never hope to understand the logic of this place and its people. If he were ever again invited to another ball, it would be too soon. Again, the fabric of his clothes felt tight around his throat. Internally, he sighed. The party had just begun, and he was already hoping for the end.

"Cullen, there you are…!"

The Commander turned his head, eyes settling on a matching formal uniform. Why Josephine had insisted on all of them wearing the same thing, he would never know. Well, perhaps he should revel in the fact that he wasn't the only one to look ridiculous. His eyes moved up, recognizing the face of the Inquisitor's favorite mage. Dorian Pavus moved smoothly through the throngs of people as if he had done it all his life. Cullen, himself, had been practically violated walking through this place, and he had not yet made it to the ballroom. He greeted the mage with a nod of his head.

"Why were you looking for me?" he asked.

"Everyone is looking for you," Dorian remarked. "I was just the errand boy. Why are _you_ still out here?" Cullen looked elsewhere for a moment. Truthfully, he had been waiting for the Inquisitor to enter the palace. He had wanted to speak with her, mostly to inform her of the troops' position, and partially to provide soothing words. These nobles were already talking about her. Referring to her as an oxman, and whatnot. He hadn't heard it since she had officially joined the Inquisition. It irritated him. A lot. Who knows how she felt about the situation? "_Ah_, waiting for our lovely Akásha, are we?"

A frown tugged at his lips. He knew he shouldn't, but it bothered him that others called her by her given name. There were only a select few… Still… Cullen berated himself. He had been the first to have the privilege. That did not mean he had a monopoly on it. The Commander cleared his throat. "Yes, actually," he replied, returning his attention back to Dorian. "She has not come yet."

"Yes, she has been missing for quite some time now," the mage murmured. Cullen narrowed his eyes. "But I'm sure she is fine. Right now, we are needed in the ballroom. They are about to announce us."

"Without our _leader_?"

"Without Gaspard, too!" They were set to announce the Inquisition without the very man that had invited them. Strange. "Now, I know what you're thinking, and if the circumstances were different, I would be right there with you. However, Leliana is quite adamant that I retrieve you now." Cullen silently released a sigh before nodding. He began following Dorian. "So… you and Akásha then?" He could sense the smirk in his voice. Odd. There had been no rumors of their affair. He had been sure they had been secretive. He certainly hadn't told anyone. It had only been… a month since that night on the battlements. Heat still spread through his cheeks remembering.

"I have no idea why you're asking me that," Cullen lied.

"Only because you never bring it up during out chess games," Dorian retorted.

"There's nothing to say."

"_Oooh_, afraid I might start rumors?"

"They aren't rumors! They-" His lips snapped close far too late. Dorian began chuckling as though he had just discovered a naughty secret. Cullen cleared his throat again. "Why are you bringing this up? What the Inquisitor and I do in our spare time is none of your concern. I suggest minding your own business."

"Come now, dear Cullen. Don't be shy," Dorian said in an admonishing tone. He turned his head, eyes practically leering. "No use in hiding it. We _all_ see the way you look at her. Your eyes are far from _shy_." The Commander halted. The entrance to the ballroom was in sight. Ever smirking, the mage turned to face him. "Besides," he continued, expression becoming serious. "Akásha happens _to_ _be_ my business." Cullen began to grasp what this was about. Dorian was her favorite mage. She was his favorite rogue. "Don't get me wrong. I _do_ approve. It's just… Well, you've hurt her in the past, haven't you?"

"I…" Guilt swelled. He could not deny it. He had hurt her. He knew that. And thinking of it still make him feel sick. He did not have the right to protest. Not now.

"Do you know what her biggest fear is?" Dorian asked, crossing his arms. "Shocking—it's not spiders. What that fear demon told her in the Fade… It told her that she was not loved, trusted, or accepted. Not by anyone. Not by friends, family, or the like." Cullen furrowed his brow. She hadn't told him that. When he had asked about her experience, she had only replied with a smile and told him 'I'm not someone who will let something take me down a second time, remember?' He had foolishly agreed, and had not asked again. "She fears _rejection_… by those she cares about. More than anything."

"I _know_…!" Cullen blurted. Maker, did he know… He then bit the inside of his mouth. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I simply want to know what you intend to do," Dorian replied as though confused as to why the Commander had lashed out. "Is she just a conquest to you? After you're finished with her, gotten what you've wanted, will you do away with her?"

"_What_?! No!" Admittedly, his voice had increased in volume. He could feel many pairs of eyes now focused on him. Cullen could not bring himself to care at the moment. Still, he did lower his voice to a whisper. "I… I understand why you're asking… and I am incredibly embarrassed that you feel the need to, but I… I've cared deeply for Akásha for a long time." He thought of her smile. The way she bit her lip to suppress how wide it could get. The way she looked at him. Cullen swallowed hard. "She isn't some conquest. I am not that type of man. She is not that type of woman. She is…" He sighed, almost wistfully. "Magnificent."

"… Well, that's a relief!" Dorian's hand suddenly came down on his shoulder. "For a moment there, I was worried. No one wants an angry Tevinter mage breaking down the door with fire." The image caused Cullen to grimace. Seemingly not noticing, Dorian grinned and directed him closer to the ballroom door. "Now. I'm sure Leliana is cursing our names in fury by now, so off we go."

The doors were pushed opened, and the two men entered together. Cullen noticed that there were more people. However, they were mostly scattered in small groups. He let out an inaudible sigh. Perhaps it would be more comfortable in here than the vestibule. His eyes spotted Leliana and Josephine speaking with the court's crier. The man was nodding his head, but looking down at the scroll in his hands. Josephine caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. She waved them over. Apparently, there were changes to be made to how the Inquisition would be introduced.

"Why?" he asked. "Shouldn't Gaspard and the Inquisitor be introduced first? They are leaders." The two women merely shared a smile before focusing back on him. Cullen narrowed his eyes. Very suspicious. He had seen those mirrored mischievous smiles quite a few times in the war room. He had learned not to ask.

"Do not worry, Commander Cullen," Leliana told him. "Things will go as planned. Maybe even a bit better." Her vague way of speaking—sometimes he just wished she spoke plainly. "Now, let us wait until we are called."

So they did. The advisors were announced first. Josephine, then Leliana. When his name was called, Cullen grimaced. He hadn't heard his full name since he had been a child. In fact, the last time he had heard it, his sister had been quite cross with him. Still, the Commander walked down the two flights of stairs, heading to the center of the ballroom floor. As he moved, he heard Blackwall and Dorian's introduction. However, Cole was not mentioned. Cullen had seen him earlier, lurking about like a shadow. The Inquisitor mentioned to him before that her 'sweet thing' could completely shield himself from the eyes of man. She had sounded proud… like a doting mother hen. Strange woman. But she did care for the spirit. It hadn't been a wonder why she had brought him along. But he had not been introduced with the rest of them. He wondered where the young rogue was now.

"And of course, we have Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons," the presenter continued. Cullen glanced behind him, eyeing the man that had invited them all to this ball in the first place. Like many others, he wore a mask. "Accompanying him… L-Lady Inquisitor Akásha Adaar." A silence fell over the ballroom. The Commander turned fully to see what had caused the cease of murmurs and the presenter to stumble. His lips parted and his eyes grew wide of the sight of the Inquisitor slowly making her way down the steps.

She wore the colors of uniform, same as himself and the others—red, blue, and gold. However, that is where the similarities stopped. Instead of the uniform, she wore a dress. A long flowing red dress, unlike the puff-like dresses Orlesians wore. Her collar hung from her shoulders, leaving them bare, and showing a bit of cleavage. A large blue sash was tied around her abdomen. The hem trailed behind her, yet the front of her dress had purposely been stitched unevenly with the rest to show her legs, right below her knees. She wore golden-colored flats, adorned with red jewels.

The Inquisitor bow respectfully to the Empress, and then walked forward. As she came closer, Gaspard moving in sync with her, Cullen noticed her makeup. Dark eyeshadow, a very deep red color. Her lips were glossed as well. But… But those were not the most striking feature. Her hair was without its usual bun. It fell, across her shoulders and back, in waves. It completely covered her cut horn. And it was _silver_. Her natural hair color. He also noticed that her labret was missing. Two large gold hoops decorated her ears. As she and the Duke walked pass, he caught of whiff of her perfume. She smelled lovely. Well… hopefully, it hadn't been from Gaspard… Almost her entire back was shown. _Ahh_… That curve…

"Commander Cullen, you are drooling," Leliana snapped him out of his thoughts. He hurriedly wiped at his mouth, only to realize that he had not been drooling at all. To his left, Josephine giggled. "She is quite beautiful, no?" Cullen turned his gaze back to the Inquisitor. She was speaking with the Empress, seemingly exchanging pleasantries. No. Beautiful was not the word he would describe her at this moment. Beautiful had been how he described her with she faced the morning sun. Beautiful is how he had described her when she practiced with her dual weapons in the courtyard, slicing through imaginary enemies, sweat sliding off her skin. This was different. She was… _stunning_. She had certainly stunned him. "The Court had already painted her as heartless, violent, and bloodthirsty. That was our disadvantage."

"But by giving them the opposite of what they believed," Josephine continued. "An understanding, demure, and kind being—they do not know what to make of her. At least until they speak with her personally. Because of this, we have the advantage now. It… was a brilliant plan."

"Why wasn't I informed?" Cullen asked.

"She wanted it to be a surprise, particularly for you," Leliana answered. "Are you surprised, Commander Cullen?" He swallowed hard, but before he could respond, he noticed the Inquisitor walking their way. His back became straighter and he cleared his throat. His fellow advisors turned towards the horned woman as well. "Inquisitor, you look lovely."

"Thank you, Leliana," she dipped her chin in acknowledgement. "So far, this dress seems to be working. I even received one or two compliments. Others seemed to be shocked, but hopefully they'll warm eventually. One man even said I looked like his next wife." She smiled widely and Cullen bristled. "I wanted to punch his throat so badly."

"But you didn't… did you?" Josephine questioned.

"Of course not. Surely, I would have been thrown out. Nobles are quite bold, aren't they?" She crossed her arms. "But I seemed to be gaining some approval. A woman let me return her ring without accusing me of stealing it. This could be the night of firsts for me."

"Inquisitor, before you speak with anyone else, I would like a moment of your time," Leliana stated.

"Of course." Her golden eyes glanced in Cullen's direction. "Commander," she acknowledged.

"Inquisitor," he replied, nodding his head. His cheeks warmed, noticing the slight curl of the corners of her lips. Then her gaze shifted to Josephine. She acknowledged the Antivan woman as well before departing with Leliana. Again, he watched her back, thoughts drifting to that night at the lake. Josephine had to nudge him back to the present. Mildly embarrassed, Cullen cleared his throat. The ambassador merely giggled again.

0-0

It took another hour before he caught sight of her. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her conversing with a noble. He almost smirked. Though there was a pleasant smile on her face, her left ear twitched and her nostrils flared. It was a sign that she was very much annoyed and trying so hard not to lash out. He hadn't seen it since Councilor Roderick. The Inquisitor scowled when the man took her hand and lightly kissed it. He did not see her lift her other hand to whack him on the back of his head.

Cullen loudly cleared his throat. With her sensitive hearing, she heard clearly. She glanced in his direction before lowering her arm. The noble man remained none the wiser. He lifted himself to see another polite smile. The Commander could not hear what was said, but the man left the Inquisitor's side. She waved him off, smile slipping just a bit. Her ear still twitched. Internally, Cullen sighed in relief, but he realized she still needed to be calmed. He wondered what had been said to her.

Determined to find out, Cullen kindly—_almost_ kindly—dismissed himself from the people that had surrounded him. They had been complimenting him and wanting to steal him away for a dance. _Puh_…! He had turned down so many dances, he could hardly keep count. The Inquisitor had been right. Nobles were indeed bold. Cullen moved towards her. With each step, he noted that her features became more relaxed and her smile became more genuine. "Commander," she greeted. "… Thanks for that. The approval I've gained so far would have been all for naught if I had struck him."

"I imagine so, Inquisitor," Cullen chuckled. "Fortunately, I was watching you."

"Yes, good thing, that," she agreed. "Continue watching me then… with those eyes. I like those eyes." The Commander felt the heat spread from ear to ear. "But also watch out for anything that might seem interesting, will you?" He nodded his head. Her gaze left him for just a moment before turning, along with a teasing smile. "I see you have attracted a bit of a following. Who are they?"

"I don't know," Cullen answered, glancing behind him. The group was still eyeing him. He internally shuddered. Then glowered. "But they won't leave me alone." She chuckled and asked if he liked the attention. "Hardly! Anyway, yours-" He cleared his throat, deciding to deeper his voice and step closer. "Yours is the only attention worth having."

"_Hm_… Cheeky," she simpered.

"You love it," he replied. Her ears twitched quickly, causing her earrings to clink together. Her shoulders lifted as well. After all this time, he still did not know what it truly meant when she did that. Well, he had only seen it three—maybe four—times. "Well, what of you, Inquisitor? You seem to be gaining admirers." Her body relaxed a bit. Though, her shoulder did lift in a shrug.

"I'll admit, I am surprised by all this," she murmured. "This _armor_ could have made them more hostile, could have made them offended seeing an oxman in such fine silk. It was a gamble. Luckily, I won." A sigh left her lips. "But I've never wanted to prove so many people right before. This Game they play, it's annoying."

"Yes, I have to agree."

"I can hardly tell if any of them are being serious or not," she continued. "That man, the one I was just talking to, he told me that he is looking for a Qunari sheath for his sword. That's what made me want to hit him." If he had known, Cullen would have let her. "I honestly can't wait for the night to be over."

"Things will be better, Inquisitor," he told her. "We will find the infiltrator, and go home, hopefully with allies." She nodded her head. Her hand reached for him, but stopped short and dropped back down. Cullen was mildly disappointed. But he understood her hesitation. Eyes must have been watching them.

"Yes, thank you, Commander." She looked away for a moment. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Alright…?" he echoed.

"Well, Cole _vaguely_ told me that you might be uncomfortable," Akásha explained.

"I _am_ uncomfortable," he admitted. "These people won't go away. I can barely breathe because of this outfit. And I…" The Commander trailed off, realizing that blurting out that he could not touch her while here would not be for the best. "I… can endure."

"I know you can. I just wanted to check on you. I'll try to speed up this political nightmare so we can leave."

"I thank you for your concern, Inquisitor, but do not be hasty on my account," Cullen told her. "Speed is not always the best course of action." Akásha nodded.

"Agreed," she said. The Commander watched the horned woman bite her lower lip. She glanced away again. "I don't suppose… you would save me a dance, Cullen?"

"No, thank you," his mouth said. She appeared startled, and then her expression became blank. Only then did he realize what he had answered. It was something she did when she did not want her disappointment shown. "No! I didn't mean to—Maker's Breath! Forgive me, Akásha. I've turned down so many dances that it's become an automatic response. I'm not one for dancing. Templars didn't attend balls." To his utter relief, the Inquisitor broke into a grin.

"Templars can't swim. Templars can't dance," she began, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm beginning to think Templars can't… _perform_." At his slightly exasperated look, she guffawed. Surely, they had gained many more eyes because of her laughter. Still, she had such a beautiful laugh. Or perhaps it only seemed that way to him. Finally, her laugh turned into light giggles.

"If you're quite finished…" Cullen said. She merely smirked. The Commander cleared his throat. "There were no such restrictions placed on Templars in regards to companionship. I can _perform_ just fine." Her eyebrow arched, and the smirk remained.

"Only just, Commander…?" she asked.

"… You wouldn't be disappointed with my performance, Inquisitor." Even as the words left his mouth, he couldn't turn away from her eyes. Even as his skin grew hot, he wouldn't look elsewhere. Akásha lost her smirk, but her cheeks were dark… as were her eyes. She licked her lips, most likely an uncontrolled action. Then she seemed to remember the situation for she turned away for a moment. It hadn't been the first time he had seen her darkened gaze, but it had been the first time she hadn't acted on it.

"I'll… I'll talk to you later." It had also been the first time she had appeared shaken. She moved to pass him, but he caught her arm. A startled gasp left her, but she made no move to escape his grasp. Cullen licked his own lips before speaking again.

"I'll await your signal, Akásha." He spoke in a whisper. She tensed. Then she relaxed again. She dipped her chin once. The Commander released her. Slowly. His gloved fingertips slid down her arm, causing her skin to crawl with goosebumps. "I am ready."

"Yes, Commander," she whispered back. Then she walked away, unknowing teasing him with her exposed back. Or perhaps knowingly. Sometimes, he could not tell if her intentions were to entice him or not. Cullen watched her go until he could no longer see her amongst the nobles. He then shook his head. He had to be on alert. Anything could happen at this ridiculous ball.

0-0

_Everything_ happened at this ridiculous ball.

Sometime during the night, the Court had come to adore the Inquisitor, especially after they had seen her dance. She had been marvelous. Her movements had been smooth and fluid. Daring and wild. Much like her fighting. She had left her dance partner, as well as the audience, flushed and wanting more. Wanting another dance. Even their masks had not been able to conceal their obvious want of the Inquisitor.

Periodically, the Inquisitor had come to him with information she, or Cole, had found. All three—the Empress, Gaspard, and Briala—had been guilty of something. The Empress had had a man chained up, naked, in her private quarters for some nefarious reason. Gaspard had planned a coup d'état. Briala murdered two on either side in order to give herself an advantageous positions. The three of them deserved medals, and he believed that with the most sarcastic tone.

Still, their wrongs had not been the reason for the Inquisition's presence. The assassin had been discovered to be Florianne, sister of Gaspard. She had succeeded in killing the Empress, which had shocked the entire court. She had been working for the Venatori, as well as Corypheus. The Inquisitor had engaged the woman in combat, and ultimately won.

Speeches, long tedious speeches, had been made. Gaspard had become the Emperor. The nobles had cheered and praised the union of Orlais and the Inquisition. There had been more drinking and dancing. The death of Celene had seemed to be in the back of their minds. The ball had gone on as though circumstances hadn't changed.

_Puh_!

Cullen would never understand the logic of this place and its people. Still, the Inquisition now had formidable allies supporting them. This entire affair had been for the greater good—the good of Thedas. And now… Celebrating was warranted. The Commander's eyes searched the crowd. He did not find the one he sought. Akásha didn't appear to be anywhere in the ballroom. Hm. Then he remembered words spoken to him previously. Perhaps she was on one of the balconies. She did like to gaze at the horizon from a high place. Made her feel relaxed, she had told him. So he searched for her, finally coming across his Inquisitor speaking with another woman. Human. Oddly familiar to him, but could bring forth any memory with her face.

She did not even glance his way as she moved pass him. His eyes were focused on Akásha, anyway. She leaned over the bannister, sigh leaving her lips. It had been a long night. She must be exhausted now that it was over. Cullen removed his gloves, and then tucked them into his sash. He moved to stand beside her, hand gently sliding up her back. She didn't flinch at his touch, only released another sigh. He leaned close to her, hand remaining at the small of her back. "Things have calmed down a bit. But are you alright?" he questioned.

"I'm… contemplating," she confessed. "Am I a bad person for letting the Empress die?" Cullen furrowed his brow. Letting, he echoed in a questioning manner. "Yes, I waited until Florianne put that blade in her before… before I acted. What Cole told me about her… it was part of the reason I…" She pursed her lips and her gaze fell to the stone railing. "She completely ruined Briala's life, and…"

"You are not a bad person," he told her. She had always had a soft spot for elves. She disliked the discrimination of elves far more than she disliked the discrimination of herself. "You did what you thought was best. That's all any of us can ever do. You did good, Inquisitor."

"And what do you think as a person, and not my Commander?"

"… I despise this Game as much as you, Akásha, but what the former Empress did to gain her position, to keep her position, was not something to overlook," he answered. "It wasn't right. Perhaps how she went was not fair, but it… was justice. In a strange way, it was justice. Thinking that does not make us bad people."

"You seriously have no chill, Cullen," Akásha responded, leaning towards him. She shut her eyes and released another heavy sigh. The Commander remained silent, taking in her scent. She no longer smelled of perfume. Sweat and blood, though he could not see it, mixed with her scent of embers and sweets. She loved her sweets. It was not a surprise she had found some. She pressed her cheek against his. He hadn't realized their faces were aligned. "I wonder if I made the right decision… and I guess I'm a bit tired of this bullshit Game."

"Agreed. I'm glad it's over," Cullen stated. He smiled, turning his head a bit to nuzzle her nose with his own. This time when she sighed, it was pleased. Whenever he initiated her way of showing affection, Akásha would always pull him closer. Perhaps because of their surroundings she didn't. Or perhaps she truly was exhausted. "I know it's foolish, but I worried for you tonight."

"Because of the dress?" she inquired. "Perhaps I should have told you about all the hidden daggers I have in this dress? Did you not see me thoroughly beat Florianne?"

"I saw, and you are just as dangerous in a dress," he complimented. He reared back a bit to whisper in her ear. "You are stunning, Akásha. I've wanted to tell you all night." She finally turned her head, eyeing him. He pulled away. "I know I'll regret asking later, so I must now." Cullen held his hand out. "May I have this dance, My Lady?" She smiled widely, standing up straight.

"Well, when you ask like that…" Akásha took his hand, and then began to move. Cullen tried hard to follow her. "I thought you couldn't dance?" she asked, teasingly.

"For you, I will try."

He did, indeed, try. However, his feet stepped on her toes more than once. He felt embarrassed that he could not keep up with her. "Cullen, you are paying too much attention to your feet. And not enough on the music, or me." Abruptly, the Commander lifted his gaze. She still had a smile on her face as though he hadn't stepped on her feet five times already. "I don't mind. When I first began dancing, I was not perfect. You can imagine the bruises I left behind. I was quite the clumsy child."

"I can't imagine, actually," he murmured. His mind recalled the way she moved on the dancefloor. "You taught you?"

"My father," she answered, proud undertone seeping into her voice. "He only taught me the one, and it took many years to master. The bruises he had to endure thanks to my feet. Mother had to soak his feet many nights." She let a giggle slip. "According to my mother, he was a great entertainer in Par Vollen. That's how she became attracted to him—his dancing."

"I wasn't aware the Qunari had entertainers…" Cullen confessed.

"Well, you have only seen the military portion of the Qun, haven't you?" Akásha leaned down, her breath catching his ear. "You're doing quite well, big kitten. You learn much faster than I did." Being complimented by her still caused the tips of his ears to burn. The Commander halted his movement. She stopped as well, rearing back to stare in confusion. By the Maker, she was wonderful. With so much darkness in his past, he had finally been sent a light for his future. Akásha Adaar—his light, his love, his forever… He wanted to believe she felt the same. Wanted to believe he was not alone in his thoughts of her. "Cullen…?"

"Sorry," he said. He swallowed thickly. "I… May I kiss you?" Her eyes lit up as her cheeks grew dark. Almost tentatively, she nodded her head. Cullen stretched his neck. Akásha lowered her head so that he could meet her lips. They kissed sweetly underneath the stars, music drowned out by the beat of their hearts.

0-0

This became much longer than anticipated. I'm drowning in this otp, and I wish there were more. Sad face forever.


	9. Crush I

Cullen knew something had changed. He did not know what. He did not know how or when. But he knew something had definitely changed. He felt energetic. Not that he had felt lethargic previously… Now, he actually _felt_ enthused about his work. Reports—he read and completed them without complaint. Council meetings—he was the first one in the door. Instructing the new recruits—he happily corrected, mostly using demonstrations instead of just barking at them. His new behavior hadn't gone unnoticed. Leliana would sometimes stare at him suspiciously as though trying to figure out why he seemed different. He doubted that she would. Cullen, himself, did not know the reason for it. Varric noticed as well, and remarked that he was a freak of nature. Coming from the dwarf that believed nature was a freak of nature, the Commander did not take the comment to heart.

Besides, he liked feeling vigorous. He felt like the Inquisition was making progress. Perhaps that was the reason. The change within him came from the Inquisition's development. It was good to be a part of it, after all. At the moment, he was looking over the map. His focus trained on the Hinterlands. There were more opportunities there. Soon, the building of the watchtowers would be complete, and the Herald would return seeking aid for the Inquisition from the horsemaster. His horses would benefit them. Also, the Hinterlands had plenty of materials for requisitions. Cullen would be sure to have a recruit inform the Herald of such whenever something could possibly help.

The door creaked open, causing the Commander to shift his gaze. The Herald entered, peering around first before entering. She saw him. Her lips curled as she closed the door behind her. Cullen cleared his throat, straightening his back. "Herald," he greeted. The horned woman nodded her head and greeted him by title as well. "Did you sleep well?"

"It was fine. But what I wouldn't give for a more comfortable bed," she replied. "What about you? You're here early. The meeting doesn't start for another ten minutes."

"I'm… usually here before everyone else." In truth, he was normally later than both Josephine and Leliana. Suddenly, his sleep patterns had changed. However, he had not felt tired in the mornings anymore, which had allowed him to come here earlier. Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, glancing upward towards her horns. "I have something for you," he stated. His hand reached into the chest on the table. What he wanted was right on top. He pulled two papers. "These letters are addressed to you. The first one had unfortunately been hidden and forgotten. I apologize on behalf of my subordinate." He handed her the first letter. Her yellow eyes scanned over the words, widened, and then looked over the words again slowly. Her brow knitted together, and then her expression relaxed. She chuckled lightly.

"Shokrakar…" she murmured. Oh, so that was the correct pronunciation? Good thing he had not tried to say it out loud to her. She gaze moved to him. "And the second…?"

"Yes," Cullen nodded, giving her the second letter. "This one came earlier this morning, along with an amulet and a battle-axe." She sucked in a sharp gasp, and then her eyes fell on him again. "Commander, you found them…"

"I said I would," he responded. "I know how much this means to you." A slight smile appeared on his face. "The way you go on about them when we talk, it's hard not to know." The Herald bit her lower lip. She set the letters down on the table. A slow breath left her. It certainly was not the reaction he had believed she would have. He had expected a smile… at the very least. "Herald…? Did I so something wrong?"

"No, sorry…" Her voice came out in a whisper. She cleared her throat. "I just really want to hug you right now." Cullen swallowed hard. His shoulders tensed. The Herald lifted her hand. "I'll refrain, though. Thank you, Commander. It does mean a lot."

"Y-Yes." He bit the inside of his mouth, somehow feeling thwarted. That was ridiculous, though. He was not some villain with nefarious plans all to obtain a _hug_. He… He didn't even want a hug. Just a smile. That's all. Then her lips curled. Both corners, and his heart skipped. Heat blossomed in his cheeks, as they did every time she smiled his way. For the briefest of moments, he wasn't able to think. "You could hug me if you want," he muttered, looking away.

"What was that, Commander?"

"Nothing…! It was nothing!" He cleared his throat loudly. Apparently, in those briefest of moments, he became a fool. "_Ah_, _um_… The watchtowers are nearing completion. I suggest leaving in two days. By the time you reach the Hinterlands, they should be done."

"And Dennet will relinquish his horses," the Herald said, nodding. Good. She didn't seem to notice the slip. "The Inquisition will have what they need, and keep moving on to fix this world." She sighed. "Progress. I guess. In the meantime, I'll… do what I always do while waiting."

"So then… later… you'll watch the training of the recruits?" The Herald would often leave the gates of Haven to watch the training. Normally, he would find her sitting on the stone steps, merely observing, for hours. Then in the next moment, she would be gone as though she were never there. Admittedly, for all her watching, he wished to know her opinion on the regime. But she never said a word about her observations.

"Of course, amongst other things. I must know of their progress as well." She blinked owlishly. "Wait… Why are you asking? Are they intimidated by my presence? Should I not watch them in plain sight?"

"No! No, of course not!" Cullen objected. "Why would you-? _No_! Please… continue to watch at your leisure."

"_Oh_… Well, if you're sure," the Herald said. She arched a brow, causing him to press his lips together. Perhaps he had protested too aggressively? "I do enjoy watching them become better… under your instruction. You're quite good, Commander." Cullen bit the inside of his mouth again, feeling his face warm. It had seemed as though she had complimented him. "When I returned and saw you with them, I mistakenly assumed you only yelled. True as your shouts were, I didn't think you… participated."

"I am quite capable, Herald."

"I know," she replied smoothly, clasping her hands behind her back. She opened her mouth to continue, but the door opened. Both Leliana and Josephine entered. The women greeted each other before moving onward to business. During the meeting, he did not say much. Business as usual. But after it was over, and the two advisors left, Cullen caught her attention again. "Yes, Commander?"

"_Ah_… I was wondering how you felt about the progress of the recruits. You watch them every day. Do you have any criticisms?" he asked.

"No," she answered, tone sounded just a bit confused. "As I said, you are good at what you do. Their improvement shows they are following someone strict and passionate—a fine commander." She crossed her arms. "Though, if you must ask, I'll say their training is a bit… restricted. For now, it's not a problem, but later on it could be…"

"Yes, I realize as well," Cullen murmured. "With new recruits coming seemingly every day, their training space is limited. A change in location would benefit them, but I don't wish to take them further from Haven in case of emergency."

"_Ah_, that's why." She then shrugged again. "Well, I'm sure you'll think of something when you cross that bridge. Right now, it's great, so I wouldn't worry about it."

"I am so glad for your nonchalance, Herald." Cullen suppressed an eye roll. She did that often, he realized. Brought up a serious matter, and then shrugged it off as though it were only a fly buzzing around. She only chuckled at his sarcasm.

"And I am _so_ glad you have no chill, Commander," she responded with an equal amount of sarcasm. "I'll see you later then." She waved as she left the war room, not taking a second to hear his reply.

"Right," he said, mostly to himself. "I'm looking forward to it."

Only… she did not show up.

0-0

Cullen felt incredibly frustrated. Today training had gone horribly. He had not understood why. They had been tripping over themselves, dropping shields, and many of them had shut their eyes as they swung their swords. It had been irritating. It should not have been irritating, though. They were completely new to the sword, and they could not have known better. However, that had not stop the Commander from showing his displeasure with the display. In the end, he had sent all of the recruits off earlier than normal.

Since then, he had been pacing in his quarters. It had been a nervous tick he had gained from the events of the Circle Tower. He did so whenever his mind became overrun with… worry? He did worry. For the progress of his troops. He thought back to their clumsiness and sighed. Cullen stopped pacing for a moment, aimlessly staring in front of him. If he were completely honest, his mind continue to think of how his eyes would dart over to the stone steps leading to Haven, expecting to see the Herald. Not once had his eyes connected with hers during the training. He supposed he had gotten used to her presence. It seemed strange that she hadn't…

"Wait…" Cullen muttered, a thought suddenly coming to him. She had showed concern over being in plain sight and watching. Perhaps she had simply tried to observe hidden from his gaze. If that had been the case, had she seen the lackluster performance of the recruits? The Commander sighed once again. He hoped not. But if not, where had she gone? He hadn't seen her all day. Night had fallen some time ago, and… He shouldn't worry. Not about her. She was capable of taking care of herself. There was nothing wrong, and she was probably just sleeping.

So then why were his feet taking him outside of his room? Why were his legs moving quickly out of the Chantry? Why were his hands wringing in front of him as though nervous? Cullen pursed his lips, staring at the entrance of the Herald's cabin. He was being ridiculous, that's why. Knowing that did not stop him from knocking on her door. The warrior carefully looked around, noting that the few people still up did not seem to notice his presence. How awful it would be to have his subordinates catch him without armor. He turned back to the door and happened to catch his reflection in the window. Maker, when was the last time he had shaved? He rubbed at his jaw, frowning. And his hair. It looked as though it hadn't been combed in days. Scowling, he used the window as a mirror to make himself a bit more presentable.

A few moments went by before he realized that there hadn't been a response. Cullen returned his attention back to the door. Silence greeted him. Furrowing his brow, he knocked again. "Herald, it's me," he called. Still, there was no answer. Previously on the nights he visited, she had been up, waiting for him, but not tonight. Why? The Commander knocked once more for good measure, waiting to hear her voice. Still nothing. So he opened the door himself.

Straining his eyes against the darkness of her room, he moved slowly. He did not want a repeat of what happened the first time he had entered. Using the walls as a guide, Cullen made it over to the light fixture on the left. His hand moved across the table underneath the fixture, searching for matches. Once found, he lit it, causing the shadows to be chased away by fire. Blinking a bit to adjust to the sudden light, Cullen shifted his gaze away towards the bed.

There she lay, undisturbed by her guest. Like before, she slumbered, curled with her knees and arms close to her chest. The Commander allowed his shoulders to relax at the sight of her. He had been worried about her welfare all day, and he she was innocently sleeping. Though, he shouldn't have been worried at all. Cullen moved closer, halting at the side of her bed. The Herald wore strange nightwear. Her breasts were bound by large dark straps of cloth that wrapped around her neck. On her legs were skin tight trousers that extended to her ankles. How could she not be cold? She slept over the covers of the bed. But he supposed he couldn't necessarily judge. Everyone had different sleeping habits.

Strange though, he thought. He had only found her sleeping twice, including now, and he couldn't believe how small she looked. So vulnerable and innocent with her dark hair pooled around her head—he wondered if he was the only one who saw this side of her.

The Herald shifted her head a bit, and a soft sigh left her. A strand of hair gently fell against her cheek. Cullen found himself leaning forward, fingers ready to tuck the hair behind her ear. He stopped, fingertips nearly touching her skin. If he wanted, he could also run his finger over the cluster of freckles under her eyes. _"What am I doing?" _he thought. Frozen, he realized the gravity of the situation. He, the Commander of the Inquisition's forces, stood over her, the Herald of Andraste, whilst she slept unaware of his being there. Cullen bit the inside of his mouth, realizing how inappropriate this must have been. Suddenly he felt his temperature rising. Despite the cold, he could feel sweat forming above his brow.

He had to leave. He had to leave and pretend this never happened. Yes. Before he could do such a thing, however, the Herald suddenly moved again. Her right arm shot out and hooked around his neck. He could hardly gasp before he found himself pulled forward. His body collided with hers. She groaned a bit, wrapping both legs around his abdomen. She even slipped her other arm around his shoulders. He was completely trapped. For a few moments, Cullen laid there, flabbergasted. His right arm had been trapped between their bodies, just under her right breast. His left had fallen across her side. The top of his chin pressed against the top of her chest.

"_How…?!"_ He blinked, then slowly refocused his gaze upward. The Herald's eyes were still shut. In her sleep, she sighed with content through her nose, warming his forehead. _"Don't just keep dreaming after that!"_ But she continued to sleep peacefully, ignorant of the world around her. A frustrated snort came from him. Cullen opened his mouth in order to wake her, but then he snapped it shut. If he succeeded in waking her, how would he explain the situation? He bit the inside of his mouth. The simple answer was that he did not want to explain. He knew himself, and he knew that he would fumble, stutter, and sweat profusely, in the end not explaining properly, leading her to jump to conclusions and label him as some perverse miscreant. Maker, just thinking about it made him sweat.

For now, he had to wait. Cullen realized that the horned woman moved around in her sleep. It would not be long before she shifted enough for him to slip out of her hold. She certainly had a strong hold on him, too… His eyes darted to the arm around his neck. As expected, she was quite muscular for a woman. He didn't doubt she could toss a man clear across a field if she truly wanted. The thought made him smirk. Perhaps he would like to see it one day. It would certainly shut Councilor Roderick up for a few weeks.

Despite her seemingly hard physique, she was softer than he expected. Being pressed against her body like this made him think back to the last time he had been this close to a woman. It had been quite some time ago. Could barely remember the girl's face. But the feeling was the same. Being so close to a soft body at night was… nice. Her piercings were gone. He could see the small holes in her ears, and the hole under her lower lip. Her lips… _Hm_. Cullen shook the thought away before it could become real. It would do him no good to think her lips were pleasant to look at, especially when she smiled or laughed… or slept… or snarled. The warrior coughed lightly, squeezing his eyes shut for a time. The last time he had been so close to her face, it had been hostile. Now, admittedly, it was mildly comfortable. Despite the situation.

_Hm_. She smelled nice, too. A dying fire? No… It was more of the beginnings of a fire. With a sweetness to it. Fruit, perhaps? Whatever the scent, he hadn't been this close enough to smell it before. Had never been so close enough to feel her.

Cullen's eyes grew wide, realizing that his palm had been slowly sliding up and down her side, tracing the light scar he had noticed. He hurriedly removed his hand from her skin, muttering an unheard apology. His eyes squeezed shut as he scolded himself—more so his traitorous hand.

This was the Herald of Andraste. How dare he—his blasted _hand_—touch her so intimately? Cullen pursed his lips, eyes drifting back up to her face. He frowned. As much as she was the Herald… she was also a woman. A woman that had quite literally dragged him into her bed. He turned his gaze elsewhere. Besides, it hadn't been so intimate. It had just been a case of a fellow warrior admiring another's scars. Yes.

She groaned, causing Cullen's gaze to snap back up to her face. She hadn't awoken, thank the Maker, but her expression was tense. Another nightmare? Without really thinking about it, he reached for her face. His palm cupped her cheek. She hadn't said another word about nightmares, but hadn't forgotten the state he found her in before. "Herald… You're okay," he whispered. After a few moments of him rubbing his thumb over the freckles under her right eye, her expression relaxed, and so did her body. She relaxed enough for her arm to move from his neck to his shoulder. Progress.

Cullen smiled as he slowly took his hand from her cheek. She continued to slumber despite his touch. _"Is it okay for a rogue to be such a heavy sleeper?"_ he thought, unaware that his hand had returned to her side. He sighed lightly, watching her. If someone had told him he would be in bed with a Qunari a month ago, he would not have believed it. And yet, he had been in bed with her quite a lot over the past three weeks. Not in that sense, but almost every night, he had come to her. In the beginning, he had visited her because it had benefited himself. After speaking with her for hours, his body had been relaxed enough to fall asleep, most of the time without dreams, without nightmares. Then he realized how much he had actually enjoyed their nightly ritual.

They shared stories about themselves. Little secrets about them. She had finally told him why her favorite color was yellow. On her six birthday, her mother had snuck into a village and stolen presents for her. Among the presents had been a bowl of custard. It had been her favorite. Despite the blatant thievery, it had been a nice gesture. Especially since that was had been the first birthday the Herald could remember having. He told her that he rarely laughed out loud in public because one of his bunkmates had told him he had a stupid laugh. She had merely chuckled and remarked that he did have a pretty dorky laugh when he didn't hold back. Then she had told him she rather liked the sound. Yes, he had grown quite fond of their talks.

Cullen stifled a yawn. He blinked rapidly in an effort to keep his drowsiness at bay. The goal was to wait for a chance to slip out of her hold. He couldn't very well do that if he fell asleep now. Distraction—he needed some type of distraction. However, he had limited options. Honestly, he had no options. Shutting his eyes, he released a heavy sigh. Perhaps… he could try practicing saying her name? She was in front of him, but she couldn't hear him. One day, he might have to say her name out loud in front of many people, and looking like a fool whilst saying it did not bode well. Cullen swallowed hard before he parted his lips. "Ak… Aka…" This was ridiculous. His eyes were closed, and he still couldn't say it without feeling nervous. Just say it. It was only a name. Her name. "Aka… Akásha… Akásha… Akásha." There. And he barely heard his heart beating.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to see golden eyes staring back at him. Cullen sucked in a silent, horrified, gasp. The Herald blinked once, and then lifted her right eyebrow. "Yes, Commander?" Her eyelids lowered, giving the appearance of repressed ire. "Did you want to tell me why you've snuck into my room and in my bed?" His body tensed, and as expected he stammered out an answer that sounded similar to a baby gurgling its first words. Her lip lifted, showing her sharp canines, which cause him to abruptly stop his babbling. "Save it," she hissed. She moved so quickly that it took him a moment to realize she had flipped him onto his back. The Herald hovered over him on her hands and knees. Her palms were adjacent to the sides of his head. "I know the answer."

"Y-You do…?" This was the worse. So embarrassing… The Herald had caught him. She knew the reason. Of course she did. She knew her own body better than anyone. If he had simply woke her up, this whole situation could have been avoided. They could have laughed it off and pretended it never happened… until she brought it up in jest. "Good. Great…" Cullen chuckled nervously. "If you know then you must realize what this-"

He stopped, only because she had covered his lips with her own. What… What was this? Everything seemed to become muffled and numb, all but the feeling of her lips. It was only after she pulled back that Cullen came to his senses again. He could feel so much heat spreading through his body, not just his cheeks. His brain could not form a coherent thought. He only lay there, staring up at the horned woman above him. "I did not expect this from you of all people, but I'm impressed that you came up with such a plan," the Herald said softly. "Clever, it was. Coming to my room almost every night so that I can get used to you. Reading reports you've completed to me just so I can hear your voice throughout the day. Meeting my eyes whenever I come to watch the training. And the icing on the cake—finding my men." She bit her lower lip. "You really thought this through."

"Th-That wasn't-" She kissed him again. Gently and in a rhythm that he found hard to resist. She reared back again, but he still felt her breath on his skin. Cullen opened his eyes, not realizing they had shut. "This isn't-" Again she kissed him, longer this time. "It isn't-" Each time he tried to protest, her lips met his. With each kiss, his protests faded. He could have easily told her no. Could have easily pushed her away since his hands were not bound. But he didn't. She pulled back again, only this time he followed after her, honestly wanting another taste.

The Herald obliged, opening her mouth for him. His hands slowly caressed her sides, enticing a muffled moan from her. She nipped at his lower lip before roughly taking control of the kiss. Maker, she was demanding. Cullen didn't care. In fact, he… liked it. She released his lips, only to extend her kisses elsewhere. She slid teeth, tongue, and lips across his jaw, nibbling at his skin. She sucked at his throat, causing a shuddering gasp to leave him. The Herald paused, sighing lightly. "I want to taste all of you," she told him.

"Maker, preserve me." He wanted to do the same. She lifted herself into a sitting position, grinning down at him. He tried following after her, but she reared back and pushed her palm against his chest, keeping him at bay. Each time he tried, she forced him back down. "Herald!" Cullen bit out, a cross between a growl and whine. The grin remained on her face, however. His frustration grew, and before he knew it he had pushed her side towards the right and moved on top of her. By the time he realized, he was already kissing her again. His mouth pressed hard against hers, prying her lips apart to meet her tongue.

A jolt coursed through his body, feeling her whimper underneath him. She felt so nice against him. Taut and smooth. Quivering and hot. Even as a part of his mind told him this was a bad idea—she was the _Herald_—he could not stop kissing her, touching her, making her release such delicious sounds. "_Ahh_… _Mmmm_…" Yes, just like that. "Cullen…" He halted and opened his eyes. Had she just…? He opened his mouth further, removing his teeth from her hip. Swallowing hard, he lifted his gaze to her face. Flushed and panting, she repeated his name. "No, Cullen, that feels _good_… don't stop…"

He crawled upward. His lips hovered over hers. This burning sensation within him—he hadn't felt in such a long time. He didn't think he would get so much pleasure from hearing his own name again. "I… I won't stop," he told her. He bit at her lips. _"As long as you keep calling my name."_

"My name…" Cullen slowly opened his eyes. He breathed in deeply through his nose, causing a pleasing smell to drift in. Blinking, he attempted to will the sleep away. _"A dream…?"_ he thought, hugging his pillow closer. _"About the Herald…?"_ The Commander squeezed his eyes shut, feeling heat coil below his abdomen. The images from his dream flashed behind his eyes. A fool. He was a damned fool. Although he couldn't very well control his dreams, such thoughts should not have entered his mind in the first place. Andraste's blood…! She was the Herald! It was inappropriate to… to… want to be that way with her. Cullen bit the inside of his cheek. Her scent still lingered in his nose, although it had been just a dream. A very nice dream. _"I wonder what it'd be like to actually-"_

Cullen inwardly glowered. Stop it, he ordered himself. He was no longer in adolescence. He knew it was wrong to even be curious. She was the Herald, not just a woman, but a symbol. It would be wildly inappropriate. No matter how much he wanted to go back to dreaming. If only to hold her close enough to feel her warmth again. _Hm_… His pillow a nice substitute, though. It even… smelled of her. Shapely, too. And… that sound—it was similar to a pulse. Cullen knitted his brow together. His eyes shot up as the realization came upon him.

In the room, it was dark, but light enough to make out the figure lying beside him. Sometime during the night, the candle had gone out. Their positions had shifted so now his chest pressed against her back and she faced the window. He held onto her tightly as though she were a pillow. He had fallen asleep with the Herald. Fallen asleep in her room. With her. Maker, _why_?! Cullen tensed, adrenaline chasing away the thought of falling back asleep. He lifted his arm, which had been draped over her torso, and then carefully removed his left leg, which had been intertwined with hers. Swallowing, he slowly pulled away from her, and then pushed himself from the bed.

He stood stalk still, wondering if his movements had disturbed her slumber. Luck seemed to be on his side this time for she did not move. Sighing inaudibly, Cullen turned away, pulling down his shirt. He couldn't believe he had fallen asleep. All those nights patrolling as a Templar had not helped him against the allure of sleep. The Commander swiftly headed towards the door. Without looking back, he left her cabin, and nearly ran for the Chantry. It did not care if he others noticed. He just had to get away.

Once he was behind the door his room, Cullen released a shaky breath. He had originally gone to check on her, and had ended up… seeing and feeling more than he intended. He lightly touched his lips. It had been a dream, but he could swear that he still felt on teeth. Maker, he was such a fool. This was obviously a strange situation. Truly, it was. Still, he had managed to escape being the only one to have knowledge of what had happened. That should have been good. Good enough to pretend it never happened, and move on. However… _"Again… I want it again."_

To feel the warmth of her body. To wrap his arms around her. To inhale her exquisite scent. To hear the gentle throb of her heartbeat. Maker—he wanted all that again. It had not been the first time he had had it, but it had been the first time he felt so greedy for it. But why _her_? Why did it have to be the Herald? She was… was… Maker, he didn't know. He needed some time. He needed to think about this. Or at the very least sleep it off. Yes. So Cullen dragged himself to his bed, and then unceremoniously fell forward. A huff left him as he attempted to get comfortable. More than likely, what he felt was fleeting, and those thoughts of her would cease.

They did not.

0-0

This is only part one of this. I just thought the chapter was getting super long, so I decided to break it up. The next part will be up soon... I hope. I think these chapters will be the only two in chronological order. Maybe. Watch out for the second half of _Crush_.


	10. Crush II

Cullen had a problem. A serious problem that could very well be the end of him. He narrowed his eyes. Perhaps he was being a bit too drastic. A sigh left him as he looked at his reflection in his full body mirror. He was dressed, looking prepared for the day. Inside, he was not. He was not prepared at all for this day. He had only gotten about three hours of sleep. The rest of his night had been spent attempting to remain asleep, tossing and turning, and occasionally growling in frustration.

His mind continued to conjured images of the Herald. Thoughts. _Hopes_. A huff left his mouth. He had been doing that all morning. Huffing. More than once though, he had caught himself smiling like a fool. He had hardened his face each time. Cullen was absolutely dreading the morning council. So much in fact that he was late. He knew he was late, and yet he stayed in his room, nearly twiddling his thumbs. A part of him wanted to go. Another part wanted to hide. The Commander clenched his jaw. After that incredible dream of her, he… was afraid to face her. Would he be able to conceal his attraction for her?

Attraction. For the Herald of Andraste. The first time she had aimed a smile his way, his insides had reacted in a curious manner. Odd. Perplexing. Stimulating. Ever since, he had found himself stuttering in her presence. Flushing. And even looking towards her horns, wanting to touch them. It had been an intriguing desire, though, _not_ intimate. At least, that is what he had believed before that _dream_. Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, again catching the beginnings of a smile. He scowled at his reflection before abruptly turning away from the mirror.

Okay. He needed to face this. Standing—well, pacing—in his room was not going to solve his problem. If anything, it would only cause more problems that he did not want to explain. Especially to his fellow advisors. With any luck, the Herald was still sleeping, and he would not be the last one to the meeting. Another image of her flashed through his mind. Her sleeping face. Her sleepwear. _Puh_! Suppressing the growl, Cullen opened his door and headed out.

It was a short walk to the war room. Wrapping his fingers around the handle, he shook his head. This. He could handle _this_. He commanded an army. He had faced and survived numerous catastrophes. This. _This_ was nothing. Facing a woman after a night of dreaming of her. Easy. He was no longer a child who became flustered and ultimately ran away. He was _a man_ and he could handle this. With a resolute nod, Cullen opened the door to the war room.

Three pairs of eyes stared back at him. Leliana's lips were parted as though she had frozen mid-sentence upon his arrival. Josephine had halted writing on her handheld board to look his way. Both women, though, faded from his sight when he met the Herald's eyes. She had turned from her usual spot at the table to face him. Her gaze was sharp, seemingly piercing his mind. Her brow arched as stood to her full height. "Commander," she greeted. Disinterested and down to business, it was her normal greeting. However, unlike before, the sound of her voice caused a vibration in his chest and rattled his heart.

As Varric liked to say: Well, _shit_.

Cullen lingered in the doorway. His gaze fell to his feet. "I… I apologize for my tardiness," he murmured. Stepping forward, he let the door close behind him. He cleared his throat and moved to his spot between his fellow advisors. He didn't glance at the Herald. He couldn't. "You can start the meeting." Honestly, he was more focused on the pieces on the map than the others.

"We already have started," Josephine supplied politely.

"Twenty minutes ago," Leliana finished. Her voice had crooned, yet there had been a hint of petulance. "Is there anything wrong, Commander Cullen?" He shook his head, trying not to think of wanting the Herald to say his name. He gave the spymaster a simple answer. Fatigue. She knew about his… fits, and so hopefully his answer would appease her. Thankfully, it seemed to work. "Right then. Let's continue."

The meeting was long. Cullen could understand the reason behind it. The Herald planned on leaving tomorrow morning to head back to the Hinterlands. She assigned and discussed tasks that she wanted done before she returned to Haven. For right after she acquired the horses, she would be heading to Val Royeaux to find out the situation there. She would be gone for weeks. She wanted to make sure the Inquisition continued to gather influence. Truly, it had been no wonder she led her own platoon of mercenaries.

Finally, the discussion seemed to be wrapping up. During the meeting, Cullen had kept his line of sight on the war table. When spoken to, he had given short answers and had remained relatively quiet. He had not wanted to risk a peek. It had been hard because he had _felt_ her gaze on him. Even now, he felt her eyes, and it made him want to run away. No. _No_! He was the Commander of a growing army. He would not run away as he did in his youth. He would stand his ground and behave like an adult.

"Dismissed," the Herald ended the meeting. Cullen was ashamed to realize his legs were practically scurrying towards the door, following both Leliana and Josephine. Before he could make it, the horned woman cleared her throat. He flinched, knowing the action had been directed at him. "Commander, a moment." That had been his confirmation. His fellow advisors continued to walk away, casting him looks of slight concern before turning their backs to him. An inaudible sigh left him as he reluctantly shut the door. He turned, facing her. However, he kept his eyes downcast.

"Yes, Herald…?" Cullen asked.

"Have I done something to offend you?" she inquired. For the first time this morning, his gaze shot up to meet hers. Her question had been asked as though she had only wanted to know something trivial. But her eyes… They held a storm within them. She had realized a change in his behavior and had come to believe that she had been at fault. No. That was not true. Not her. Him. He was at fault. Cullen bit the inside of his mouth.

"N… No," he murmured, dropping his gaze again. His hands came together in front of him, wringing. He almost immediately clasped his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat. "No. You haven't." The Herald took a long stride towards him. Cullen tensed, eyes going wide. Her feet were planted in front of him. If he were to look up, he would see her freckles. He desperately wanted to look now.

"Then may I ask why you were glaring at me throughout the meeting?"

Had he? Cullen had been sure he kept his eyes firmly, stubbornly, on the war map. He bit the inside of mouth again. Perhaps he had, though… When she spoke, he normally watched her. But today? And _glaring_? It couldn't be. "I'm not sure what you mean, Herald." The Commander shifted his weight from his left foot to his right.

"I'm not sure what you mean either," she confessed.

"Herald…?"

"You… Well, before you glare at me, you smile just a bit," the horned woman muttered. She stepped back, feet leaving his line of sight. Cullen tensed immediately. Maker's breathe…! He had been doing it all morning. Catching himself smiling, and then scowling. She must have caught him. "I'm not sure what I've done to cause such a reaction. So I ask again, have I done something to offend you? I thought… after… I thought we were… _amicable_." Finally, the Commander let his gaze slowly move up her body before settling on her lips.

"You haven't," he repeated. He mentally shook his head, and then looked her in the eye. She had moved away from him enough that he could not see her freckles. He had to think of something that would ease her mind. She believed that he had come to dislike her. That couldn't be further from the truth… Cullen felt heat rise from his neck to his face. Dream aside, he had enjoyed her company. "I… well…" He cleared his throat, a rushed idea coming to his mind. "You are an admirable woman, Herald. I respect you, but…" The beginnings of a frown tugged at her lips. "But I can sense our—the Inquisition's—cause will become more dangerous. I'm a bit concerned about your abilities in the field." He swallowed hard, watching her eyebrows knit together. "You are a key member of the Inquisition, and yet you are the one who ventures out in the world, closing rifts and… recruiting agents. I was thinking… perhaps it might be a good idea-"

"You don't believe in my strength?" the Herald cut in. Her voice remained stoic, but a full frown had worked its way into her expression.

"No! That's not what I-"

"You have _no_ right to judge my abilities in the field if you haven't even _seen_ them," she continued, moving forward. Again, Cullen tried to protest. It had been ridiculous to say something like that. He merely thought it had been a better alternative than telling her the truth of his unintentional staring. But this conversation was already spiraling out of his control. Before he could get a full sentence out, the Herald held up her hand. He abruptly snapped his mouth shut. He had never seen her expression of anger, but surely this was it. Her teeth were clearly clenched and she breathed through her nose, causing her nostrils to flare. The Herald shut her eyes for a moment, and then swallowed. "Commander, I do not like your doubt."

"Herald, that wasn't what I meant…" Maker, he was beginning to sweat. She pinned him down with her golden gaze. Cullen found that he had become both intimidated and incredibly excited. He bit the inside of his mouth. The horned woman leaned forward, causing her freckles to become visible to his eyes.

"Meet me at the front gate in five minutes," she hissed. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "And bring your shield." He tried to speak, but she interrupted before words left his lips. "If you are even a second late, I _will_ find you." Cullen gulped, feeling like prey trapped in a corner. The Herald straightened, and moved around him. She opened the door without effort, letting it slam shut behind her.

After a few moments of holding his breath, he released it in a shaky manner. Undoubtedly, he had made the Herald upset. Bring his shield, she had said. For what purpose? Five minutes… and a threat that lingered in his mind for longer than it should. Cullen stiffened suddenly. He only had five minutes to retrieve his shield and make it through the village to meet her. This was no time to be standing still. Hurriedly, he left the war room and headed to his quarters. He found his shield leaning against the wall.

Cullen held the silver safeguard close, pondering what the Herald planned to do. Why did she require his shield at all? But again, he had limited time, and so he hastily began moving towards the Chantry's entrance. Upon opening the door, he found the morning sun almost blinding. The Chantry should seriously consider having more windows. He, however, did not wait for his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the weather.

Steeling himself, the Commander very nearly marched through the village. Stiffly walking, to be honest. He was uncertain of what to expect from the Herald calling him out. Well, clearly she had been insulted. He hadn't meant to do that. Cullen had only wanted to suggest being more involved with the training of the recruits. Maybe she'd learn something that would help her in travels. But she hadn't given him time to explain, and had become angry with him. _"I'm such a fool,"_ he thought, frowning.

The gates of Haven were already opened. He had already heard the clashing of swords, but the sounds had become louder as he passed through. His eyes darted around, looking for any sign of horned woman. However, it appeared as though she had yet to arrive. Cullen allowed himself to breathe deeply, only to flinch when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He turned to find a pensive Cassandra to his left. "Cullen, are you alright?" she questioned.

"I'm…" He sighed through his nose, calming himself. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Leliana has told me of… your strange behavior."

"I am _fine_, Cassandra," Cullen repeated. His fellow advisor worked fast, didn't she? "Just a minor headache." Lie. The ache was not in his head, but in his chest. But he surely did not want to tell Cassandra that. The seeker narrowed her eyes suspiciously. This woman who wanted the truth, and nothing but, could probably sense his lie. The Commander tried not to gulp under her penetrating gaze. Fortunately, he did not have to further the lie because the Herald had arrived.

"Adaar," Cassandra greeted. The rogue nodded her head in acknowledgement. She had changed out of her casual clothes and into clothes she wore whilst out on missions, dual weapons and all. Her eyes drifted to where the warrior woman's hand lay. Still on his shoulder. Cullen tensed. He cleared his throat as he moved away. Cassandra did not seem to notice, but the Herald shifted her gaze to his face. "I did not see you yesterday. It is not like you to break routine." The comment caused her yellow orbs to disappear behind closed eyes.

Cullen had wanted to ask her, and the seeker brought it up in such a casual way. He supposed he should be grateful. He would have fumbled with the question. When the Herald opened her eyes, they were focused on Cassandra. "I'll tell you at a later time. Right now, I have… business with the Commander, yeah." The warrior woman cut her eyes to him as though she had caught him in a lie.

"Are you _sure_-?"

"_Cassandra_! I trust your judgment and I wouldn't lie about _that_!" Cullen blurted out, becoming just a bit irritated. "I am _fine_." The bite in his words caused her to purse her lips. Still, she did not say anything more. The Commander snuck a glance at the Herald. She hadn't seemed to be curious at all on the matter. He felt his body deflate just a bit upon the realization. "If you're finished… the Herald and I have something to discuss." It had been an indication of ending the conversation, and Cassandra had picked up on it.

"Then I shall take my leave," she stated. "Adaar, Commander." Cullen watched the warrior woman head over to a practice dummy before he focused on the Herald again. Without looking at him, she began walking away.

"Let's go." It had sounded much like an order. Swiftly, he caught up to her and matched her pace. She took long strides, and so he kept up with a bit of difficulty. They walked for a while, nothing but silence between them. Throughout the trek, Cullen would periodically look behind them. Haven was so far away now, and yet they continued to move.

"Herald…? Just where are we going?" he asked after a few more moments had passed.

"Somewhere they won't hear your screams."

"Wh-_What_?!"

"I was kidding," she said, voice void of any mirth. A nervous chuckle escaped him. He flushed, feeling hot despite the weather. Maker, he was beginning to realize this woman would be the death of him. Cullen bit the inside of his mouth and rubbed the side of his neck. Suddenly, the Herald stopped. Her head shifted to the left, and then right. "We're here." Admittedly, Cullen did not know where 'here' was. They had come to a clearing, rid of trees yet full of snow. "Here is where I come after observing the training," the rogue informed him as though she had read his mind.

"I… I see," he remarked. He had been curious about her disappearances, but figured it hadn't been any of his business what she did in her free time. "Why are we here?"

"This where is we will spar," she answered bluntly.

"Spar?" Cullen echoed slowly.

"Yes." She faced him then, arching a brow. "You have doubts concerning my ability, and I intend to rid you of them. _Personally_." The Commander's eyes grew wide, suppressing a shiver from hearing her last word roll off her tongue.

"W-We don't have to do that," he protested. That's why she had told him to bring his shield. He always carried his sword, but not the shield. Cullen knew now that there was no way out of this. Still, he did not want to _fight_ the Herald. He had noticed she had not put the word 'friendly' in front of spar, too. No. He didn't want this. "If you let me explain, I-"

"No." Once again, she interrupted. She had sounded eerily familiar to the Qunari in Kirkwall with that abrupt response. "Prepare yourself, Commander." She reached behind her, pulling both weapons from her back. She then moved several steps back, putting distance between them. "This is the only warning you'll get."

Cullen hastily unsheathed his sword. The moment, he was in a proper stance, she rushed at him. He blocked her right strike with his shield, and then blocked her left with his sword. His arms trembled, holding her back. _"So strong…!"_ he thought, gritting his teeth. If he were to hesitate with this opponent, he could walk away with serious injuries. If he could walk at all. The Commander furrowed his brow, meeting her stare head on. _"Fine." _He breathed in deeply through his nose _"I'll respond to you, Herald!"_ The breath was released, and her eyes seemed to light up. Pushing his body forward, he forced her away. The Herald stumbled a bit before righting herself. She brought her weapons in front of her in an X. Seconds passed before she ran at him again.

And so they clashed. Over and cover, their customized iron hummed under the force of their collisions. As he thought, she was strong. But she was graceful. She twirled and cartwheeled, dodging and evading his strikes seemingly with ease. When she came at him, her strikes were hard and precise. If the situation were any different, the strikes would be deadly as well. A rogue with the strength of a warrior… The Herald was art in motion. Cullen had never been one for art, or for seeing fighting as anything more than violence, but there was something frighteningly beautiful about her style. Really, he had become distracted a few times during the spar.

The Commander panted lightly, taking the breather she had graciously given. Or perhaps needed. She, too, panted, watching him at a distance. She fingers curled over her remaining sword. He had managed to knock the other away with his shield during one of their clashes. She had later wretched his shield away from his arm. It had felt as though she had tried to rip his arm from its socket.

Suddenly, she sucked in a huge breath, and then ran at him again. Cullen became rigid, preparing for the approach. Once she was in range, he thrust his sword straight. She spun on the ball of her right foot, dodging the tip of his sword and gliding past his outstretched arm. With a sharp rap to his arm, she caused him to lose the grip on his hilt. As the sword fell, the Herald gripped his shoulder, knocking him down with herself on top.

He winced, feeling the coldness of her blade against his neck. She then raised the sword, tip pointed down. "You're _good_," she complimented with a smirk. On her knees, her torso hovered over his. A flash of the dream appeared in his mind. He gulped, hopefully, soundlessly. "I'd probably be in trouble if you didn't hold back."

"And I'd probably be dead if you didn't hold back," Cullen replied. "You are impressive, Herald." Her brow arched and her smirked shifted into a candid smile. "But I also believe you're a bit impulsive, though you attempt to hide it." He finally made his advantage known by lightly pressing the tip of his hidden dagger against her. She gasped, eyes going wide in surprise. "Until your opponent is dead, you should think there's always a backup plan."

"Spewing compliments with that mouth and arming yourself at the same time—you are brilliant, Commander." She looked in between their bodies, eyeing the small projectile he gripped in his hand, so she did not see his cheeks flush. "I didn't think you warrior types cared for other blades." The Herald moved to the side, body no longer hovering above him. With a grunt, Cullen sat up. He spied his shield a bit away, only because it glinted in the sunlight. "Commander…?" He returned his eyes to the Herald as he slipped the dagger back in place of his boot. She sat beside him, knees raised. She wrapped her arms around her legs. Her eyes didn't seem to be focused on anything in particular. "I have a confession."

"_Hm_…? Confession? I'm… but I'm not a Chantry Brother!"

The Herald blinked once, and then turned incredulous eyes on him. Cullen flushed in embarrassment. Then she cracked a smile. "Oh, you're definitely a Chantry boy, though." She laughed a bit, causing his insides to flutter. The Commander swallowed hard, looking elsewhere. "Not that type of confession," she continued. "I don't even believe in the Maker."

"O-Oh…"

"Does that bother you?"

"No… maybe a little."

To his surprise, she chuckled. "Definitely a Chantry boy," she remarked. Her gaze left him. She didn't speak for a time. Cullen couldn't help but wonder if she believed in anything at all. She had been raised outside of the Qun. She had a choice to believe in the Maker, and yet apparently she did not choose Him. Ironic that the _Herald of Andraste_ did not care for the Husband. "_Eh_…" The Herald cleared her throat. "Anyway… To tell the truth, I wanted to fight you. Wanted to see what you were capable of," she admitted. "I knew what you had said before wasn't meant to be bad, but I used it as an excuse to see… another side of you."

"Another side?" Cullen repeated.

"_Mm_." She nodded her head. "You were ferocious. I can see why some people compare you with a lion. I… like that side of you as well." The Commander couldn't fight the way his body reacted to her words. He had already been sweating due to their spar, but now his body felt on fire. He had little doubt he could melt the snow if his skin touched it. He bit the inside of his mouth, attempting to repress the smile that threatened to take over his face. "Powerful and solid. Matches your voice, I guess," she continued. Cullen coughed lightly and turned his face away so that she wouldn't see. "… How was I?" How should he answer that?

_Beautiful._

_Breath-taking._

_May I kiss you?_

Cullen wiped the sweat from brow. Maker breath! He couldn't say any of that. "I… _erm_…" He tried to think of something that didn't sound suggestive. "You were… You adapted well. You're very agile… and flexible." Mentally, he sighed. It had been better than what his thoughts wanted to blurt out. "I'm curious as to who taught you." Gradually, his eyes drifted back to her. She was smiling brilliantly as though he hadn't given such a lame compliment.

"Oh, it was my ma—_er_ my mother, yeah," she answered. "Originally, she taught me for self-dense. Don't know why—it's not like we met anyone else, but I had a knack for learning, so she taught me a lot. She said the same thing to me before. That I adapt well."

"I see…"

"Did you start at a young age, too?"

"_Ah_… Well, yes. While other boys my age were playing, I had been practicing swinging my sword. For hours, every day. Sometimes I would forget to eat. Self-taught, I suppose, until the Templar Order took me in." He chuckled a bit. "Maker, my form was bad." The Herald laughed along with him.

"I could see that. Bet you were a serious little brat." Actually, her comment hadn't been too far from the truth. A silence fell upon them, though he wouldn't call it uncomfortable. Cullen looked her way again. She seemed serene. Even in her disheveled state. During their spar, strands of hair had come from the bun she wore. Her scarf was no longer around her neck. Her jacket had slipped from her right shoulder. His gaze became mesmerized by the sweat sliding down her skin. She slowly turned her head, eyes catching him. "What?"

"… I…" Cullen didn't know what to say. He rubbed the side of his neck and awkwardly looked down at his lap. He cleared his throat, biting the inside of his mouth. "_Oh_…! Herald, I-" He shifted his gaze to her again. She blinked innocently. He cleared his throat again, briefly staring at a nearby snow mound. "I… I wondered if… you had decided to watch the training from afar after all… since I did not see you yesterday."

"_Ah_, right." Her finger tapped against her lower lip. "I guess I missed a lot of things yesterday. _Uh_… no. I just didn't show up. I was exhausted."

"From what, if I may ask?"

"Solas."

"… Solas?"

"Yeah. I finally convinced him to show me his spirit friends. He didn't tell me the trip was going to tire me out," she explained, lifting her right shoulder.

Spirit friends...? Cullen did not know much about the elf, but he did know the elf had an—unhealthy—obsession with the Fade and its inhabitants. Because of him and his knowledge of the Fade that the Herald had been able to survive in the first place. It did not take much convincing for the elven mage to begin spouting how great spirits were. However, he did not realize that the Herald had been interested as well. He furrowed his brow. "Trip?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. He can dream of the Fade… and also have me dream with him, I guess. I-I don't really understand how it works," the Herald said. "But I was able to meet one of his friends. But I was dead tired after the experience. I didn't even change into my normal night clothes before I fell asleep." Cullen gulped as more images from last night crept into his mind.

"_Um_—why did you want to meet a _spirit_?" he inquired, pushing the thoughts down.

"That… I wanted to know if it was the same as what I believe." The horned woman rested her chin on her right knee, eyes closing for a time. "I grew up believing in the Spirits. But not spirits that Solas talks about. Spirits that can so easily be corrupted into demons. I'm interested in them, but only in comparison to the Spirits I believe in."

"I'm… not sure I understand," Cullen admitted. The Herald inhaled, and then sighed heavily. He wondered if he upset her.

"My parents encouraged me to believe in whatever I wanted. They told me I had a choice. They did not want me to have restrictions like what they went through under the Qun. I was just a child, though," the Herald suddenly chuckled. "To me, it was a game. When my mother asked me what I wanted to believe in, I answered _nature_. That is what is real to me. I could see and feel them. As I grew older, I separated nature into Spirits. Water, Fire, Earth, and Air—nature Spirits. Eventually, the game became real, especially after my ba—_uh_ my father started believing with me. My mother was a bit disappointed that I didn't become Andrastian like her."

"Your mother is Andrastian?"

"Yeah. After the Qun, she turned to Andraste. My father was resistant to pretty much everything after living under the Qun, though…"

"Can I hear more about your Spirits?"

"… Really? You want to know?" She finally looked his way again, eyes holding confusion. Her shoulders lifted and her ears twitched. Cullen found it odd. He hadn't noticed her ears twitching before. Well, actually, that wasn't true. Perhaps he had simply not paid attention to it.

"Don't misunderstand. I won't turn my back on the Maker, but it does sound interesting."

"_What_? I'm not trying to _convert_-!"

"I am kidding, Herald."

"_Oh_."

Cullen almost laughed. That had been the first time he had heard her voice squeak like that. He wondered if he could make her do that again. The Herald coughed, muttering something under her breath. He had not been to make it out. She then spoke louder in a clear voice. She began to explain her beliefs to him. She described how the Spirits existed separately, but in harmony. However, they would sometimes clash. Creating or destroying. The Spirits regulated life and death. She believed that when a person dies, they would be reborn eventually.

He watched her talk about her form of religion. She seemed pretty enthused about it, especially since it started out as a game. A game… She _was_ playful, wasn't she? To be honest, he couldn't see her following the Chantry, anyway. Cullen wondered if it would be okay to maybe accept his own feelings. She was so different than anyone he had ever encountered before. It became so clear after hearing she didn't even believe in the Maker. She was this. He was that. She the light. He the dark. Opposites. But… _"I like you,"_ he thought.

A chill went through him. He felt the heat spread throughout his body. He _liked_ her. Despite their differences, Cullen enjoyed spending time with her. He looked forward to their talks. He wanted to know more things about her. He wanted her… for himself. His lips pressed hard against each other. A selfish thought. The Herald could not be for just anyone. But… _"I like you."_ He shivered again. Admitting it to himself made his heart jump, exhilarated. _"I like you. But I can never say."_ He would be content with admiring her from afar. Being so close, and yet so far away—he would endure it.

"Commander." Her voice addressed him. She lightly poked his shoulder, bringing him to attention. "We've been out here too long. You're going to catch a cold because of me. Let's head back to Haven."

"_Ah_… Y-Yes, Herald."

She stood first, heading to collect her discarded items. As she walked away from him, she pulled at her hair, tugging the loose strands back in place. Cullen had no illusions, though. He had come to be fond of her. That did not mean he should expect the same in return. Maybe she found humans unattractive or simply would never consider it. She would probably never look at him in that way. He wasn't good enough. Still… _"Look at me… please,"_ he thought.

To his surprise, she turned, in the process of picking up her sword. She blinked slowly. Cullen froze under her stare. His heart pounded against his ribcage. He felt himself tremble just a bit. The Herald arched a brow before gesturing over to his shield. Immediately, he hurried over to collect it. The ringing in his ears had yet to cease. It had been a mere coincidence, but he took it as a form a hope. Foolish. So very foolish.

Still the next time she came to him in his dreams, he foolishly told her he wanted her to himself.

0-0


	11. Doubt

His concentration had ceased. Like a gale, she had come, completely disrupting his meeting and his very train of thought. Even his sentence had wavered at the sight of her. Her eyes. Those penetrating hazel eyes—tinged with gold and mischief—had watched him like a predator. Something inside of him had lurched forward. Admittedly, that had not been an abnormal reaction. The first time she had aimed a smile his way, his insides had begun reacting to her presence. It had been perplexing and oddly stimulating. Just a bit, her eyes had narrowed and a slight smirk had tugged at the right corner of her lips.

Cullen cleared his throat, and then finally finished his sentence. The soldiers and scouts around him had not seemed to notice the slip. They had not seemed to notice the Inquisitor's presence either. How long had she been standing near the door, hidden by shadows? He could only guess. "That will be all," he informed the troops, dismissing them to go about their duties. They saluted him, and then headed towards the open door. The Commander followed, watching all of them nod in respect towards her, to which she did the same.

When they had all exited, Cullen pushed the door closed. Then he turned, pressing his back against it. A heavy sigh left him. "It never ends, does it?" he muttered, mostly to himself. He glanced in her direction to see she had pushed herself from the wall. She shrugged, one shoulder as she normally did.

"If it did, I imagine we'd be out of a job, yeah," the Inquisitor replied. She stood in front of him, sliding a hand around his side. "Then where would we be?" She leaned forward, lips brushing against his. Cullen returned the kiss earnestly. Eagerly, his hands found her hips and tugged her body against his. His right hand lowered, gripping her thigh. Her leg lifted, hooking around his body. She moaned against his mouth as he rolled her hips against his. Her arms moved around him. He had never been more annoyed with his armor. She reared back a bit, smirking. "Someone's in a mood," she remarked. She did not stop grinding against him.

"I'm not the only one," Cullen replied, nipping at the right side of her jaw. He pushed, backing her up. She seemed to know what his intentions were. She bit her lower lip, and then kissed him. Walking backwards, she pulled him over to his desk. There was no need to. He would readily follow. She leaned against his desk before sitting on top. Her legs spread, allowing him to stand between them. Slowly, her hands began unclasping her shirt. "_Akásha_… Y-You-" Eyes watched, fascinated, as more skin was revealed to him.

"I want your bite, Cullen," she said, resting her hands on his shoulders. Without another word, he obliged, sinking his teeth in her skin. Not enough to draw blood. Never enough to draw blood. Akásha gasped, curling her fingers. Her body bucked against his. The Commander swallowed hard, willing himself not to lose control so quickly. His tongue darted out, sliding against her throat. Cullen held her sides, wishing he did not have his gloves on.

Akásha dipped her chin so that her lips could touch his again. He met her halfway, hungrily attacking her mouth. Fingers lightly caressed his cheek as their tongues danced. Cullen quaked in anticipation. This could be it. Tonight, she could allow him to completely have her. He raised his hand, sliding it up until his palm cupped her right breast. He squeezed lightly, and she mewed against his mouth, sounding distinctly like his name. Her hand found his. For a moment, he believed she intended to stop him. However, she quickly yanked his glove off. _Mm_… Her skin—so _warm_. He craved and loved it. He couldn't get enough. More. He wanted more.

He broke the kiss, only to trail his lips lower. He did enjoy nipping at her neck. She moved her head back, stretching her neck to give him more access. Her hips rocked against him in sync with his hand over her breast. Maker… The friction she was causing—he needed, _wanted_. Cullen bit his own lip as she locked her legs around him, grinding harder. "I—_Akásha_—I want you…!" he breathlessly hissed against her neck.

"No need to tell," she returned gutturally, smugness in her tone. "I can _feel_ you."

"Akásha…" He dragged his lips back up to meet hers. She met his kiss with equal vigor. Her fingers gripped the back of his neck before sliding up into his hair. Cullen lost control then. He thrust against her hard. Maybe too hard. She reared back, exclaiming his name. His lips and teeth moved down her chin, only to suck at her throat. Her heavy breathing tickled his lips. "M-Mine…" he whispered. "I want—mine—forever."

His mumbled words were heard and her movements immediately quelled. "What?" Her fingers gripped his hair, pulling him away from her skin. Panting, they stared into one another's eyes. Her brow furrowed, causing Cullen to bite the inside of his cheek. Damn. He hadn't meant to- But it was clearly too late to take it back now. He slowly pulled away from her and stood up straight. In response, Akásha lifted herself back into a sitting position.

For some time, only silence filled the air. Finally, Cullen rubbed at his neck, nervously glancing at his thrown glove, which now lay at a far corner of his office. He gulped, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "I…" he began, dropping his hand from his neck. He willed his thoughts to shape into words. "When this all began—the Inquisition—I thought little of anything beyond that, but with our progress, this war won't last too much longer. Things have changed, and I… find myself wondering what comes after." The Commander hesitantly touched her thigh. Her eyes briefly looked down at the intimate gesture before returning to his face. Her expression was placid. He didn't know what she was thinking, but he continued. "When it's over, I won't want to move on… not from you."

There he had said. Well, implied it, really. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with this woman. He loved her. So very much. So very deeply. He wanted her to be his. He wanted to be hers. Forever. Akásha continued to eye him with such an unreadable expression. It was so quiet, he could hear his heartbeat slamming against his chest. Then her gaze wavered, focusing instead on where his hand still lay. Then she slipped away from his touch, and the beat of his heart slowed. Constricted, really.

She stood up, turning her back to him. Absolute dread filled him. Her reaction didn't seem… This was not how he expected this situation to go. He had expected a playful remark, joy at his confession, lots of kissing, and finally making love to her. Not… Not this eerie void of silence. "I…" Akásha began in a murmur. She turned to him, eyes showing nothing. "I never thought you'd… reach this point. I-" She paused as though searching for the right words. "This thing between us was good. Nice. Fun. But that's all it was—_fun_. A way to pass the time, I guess… There's no… future for us."

"…" He couldn't speak. He wanted to protest, shout, say something. _Anything_! But Cullen could only watch her as his heart broke. No, it felt like it was ceasing to exist. He tore his gaze away from her, biting the inside of his mouth so hard he could taste blood. How… _Fun_?! That's all it was to her? Fun…? When he had poured his feelings into this relationship—of course she did not have an obligation to him. Still… It felt as though she had shoved a dagger in his chest.

"But I still like you, Cullen," the Inquisitor hurriedly said. No. Don't. How could she still say his name like it still belonged to her? He swallowed painfully, turning his back to her. "Maybe I should have said something sooner, but… I still want to be friends." The dagger twisted, and Cullen almost stumbled. "I hope it's not too late."

The Commander turned to look at her one more time. She stood there, appearing disappointed and tentative. It hurt. It hurt so much. Friends? After everything that happened to reach this point, and… _friends_? How could she be so callous? He had given his heart, and she had crushed it. He could no longer bare to look at her. He just couldn't. He couldn't watch her beautiful face look at him with pity. He had thought… Well, obviously, he had been mistaken.

Cullen opened the door. He had to get away. Leave. Run. _Breathe_. With a start, he realized that he was not breathing. Not properly. His body began to panic. He took two steps away from his office before the ground disappeared from under his feet. And he fell.

Falling

Falling

Falling

And not caring in the least.

A sharp gasp ripped his mouth open as he sat up in bed. His bed. He panted heavily as his eyes darted around his quarters. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal. A shaky hand wiped at his forehead as he shut his eyes. _"A dream,"_ Cullen thought. _"Just a dream…"_ It hadn't been real. Not real. Not. It bothered him, though. He could remember it quite clearly. Her eyes, her words—it hurt his chest. The Commander lifted his legs, resting his elbows against his knees. A heavy sigh left him. His palms almost furiously rubbed at his cheeks. _A dream_, he chanted in mind. That's all it was.

The sweat was wiped from his forehead as he moved to get out of bed. Though it had been a dream, it left him feeling numb. Inside and out. Cullen glanced at the hole in the ceiling. Morning had come. He imagined he had missed breakfast already, but it shouldn't be so late that he would be tardy to the meeting. His body moved slowly as though he were treading through water. Admittedly, he was not quite aware of himself as he prepared for the day. He washed his face, wiping the sweat away. Dressed himself, disregarding his gloves. Took the comb and brush to his hair, not caring for the style. Didn't bother to look in a mirror. His body moved without will.

It felt strange.

It felt… unknown.

It was when he sat in his office, staring aimlessly at the paper on his desk, did he snap out of it—whatever it was—due to the knocking at his door. Cullen sharply turned his gaze as the door opened. The Inquisitor's head peeked around, and then her eyes spotted him. She smiled lightly before entering, shutting the door behind her. "Good morning," she greeted.

"Inquisitor," Cullen replied, standing. He noticed she did not wear her casual clothing. Instead, it appeared as though she intended to go out. A frown graced his face. "I'm sorry—did I miss the meeting?" She blinked, matching his frown.

"No," she stated. She narrowed her eyes. "I came to tell you the meeting has been postponed. Until the evening, I think." Her feet moved, bringing her closer to his desk. Cullen briefly looked away. "Are… you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," he answered. He returned his eyes to her. For some reason, seeing her now did not cause the normal reaction of distinct fluttering in his chest. Now, it was nothing. He still felt so numb. That couldn't be. He shouldn't feel _that_. "Why are you leaving?" he asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Just a few errands," she told him, expression losing its suspicion. "In the Hinterlands. Figure I finish up there before Josie confines me to Skyhold for a month in preparation for the Winter Place." She chuckled a bit, showing her teeth. The fluttering returned. He felt himself smiling. Yes. This was it. The Akásha in front of him was real. Not nightmare Akásha. This one—she was real. She wouldn't… tell him those things. "I'm taking Dorian, Cassandra, and Bull with me," she went on. "It should only be a few hours, so expect my return before dinner. I would still like to have a meeting. Leliana and Josie have already been told, so I expect the three of you to be gathered in the war room."

"Understood, Inquisitor," Cullen said, nodding his head. Her lips pursed. She appeared hesitant. By the way her ears flattened against her head, he could tell. "Is there anything else?"

"N-No," she murmured, still hesitant. "Not really." Akásha cleared her throat. "I'll see you in a few hours." What could-? Oh! Cullen hurriedly moved around his desk as she turned to leave. He grabbed a hold of her hand, causing her to pause. He realized the reason for her behavior, and it had been because of _his_ behavior.

"You're forgetting something," he said, feeling his cheeks warm. His hand lifted to grip her forearm, pulling her down. Gently, his lips touched her. A sigh left her, and then she returned his kiss, placing a hand on his shoulder. Their fingers intertwined, and the fluttering became stronger as it did each time he kissed her. They parted eventually, both flushed and breathing heavier than normal. Cullen faintly realized her hand had moved to his hair. His hand had moved to rest on her hip. Their other hands were still linked—skin against leather.

"Spirits, how could I forget _that_?" Akásha pressed her nose against his deliberately slow, which caused his legs to tremble. "Thanks for the reminder, Cullen."

"Anytime." He pressed a chaste kiss to the right corner of her mouth. His hand slid up and down her side, provoking yet another tender kiss from her. Long and hot, he forgot where he was for a moment. Cullen reared back, licking his lips. "I will await your return, Akásha." The rogue nodded her head, but leaned forward for another. "Inquisitor," he whispered, shifting his head a bit. A soft whine escaped her, causing the Commander to chuckle. "There will be more time for that later. I'm sure the others are waiting for you."

"I suppose you're right," she muttered, clearly disappointed by the way her left ear twitched. She removed her fingers from his hair and stood up straight. "Dorian's already irritated that I woke him up so early for this." The rogue headed for the door, but she halted, hand on the knob. He thought she intended to face him again, but she didn't. "I like… I like this," Akásha said softly. The fluttering had not ceased, but now he could hear it. "It's… you're… I mean-" She sighed. Cullen imagined her biting her lower lip. He watched her fingers tighten around the handle. "I like…" She tried again, and then cleared her throat. "You're great, Cullen. You're… _um_… fun, I guess."

Everything within him came to a screeching halt. Heat blossomed in his chest, but not the usual heat. No. This wasn't passionate or comforting in the least. It tugged at his heart and gnawed at his lungs. Confusion, anguish… ire. It felt it churn in his chest and spread. Akásha did not seem to realize how her words affected him. He had frozen, breath hitched. She opened the door, not looking back.

_But that's all it was—fun._

"I'll see you in a few hours," she repeated. Then she was gone. Cullen swallowed with great difficulty. With shaky steps, he moved backwards until he hit the desk. Flinching, almost violently, he turned, glaring down at its surface. Paper lay scattered unaware of the turmoil he felt. His lips parted and he inhaled sharply. He had almost confessed his love to her here. He would have made love to her on this desk. But… _Just a dream_, a part of his mind whispered insistently.

However, another part argued back. Just how much of it had been a dream formed by the truth? Akásha was playful by nature. He had known this for quite some time. There were many things she found amusing. She did not like being bored. It would not come as a surprise to find out she had only wanted him for entertainment purposes. And once she was done, she would toss him aside in a similar manner she had done _Swords and Shields_. Cullen shook his head. No. Not Akásha. She… She couldn't have known what her words had meant to him.

_I still want to be friends._

_Selfish_, another part of his mind hissed. How cruel she was to play with his affections. She was going to discard him. This relationship was a mere fleeting waste of her time. Wouldn't she much rather have a distraction than to face the end of the world? She had told him herself previously, hadn't she? He was her escape—her way to relax. That's all he was to her. Fun. A distraction. She wouldn't return his love. Cullen squeezed his eyes shut.

_There's no… future for us._

How could she? He was merely human—nothing compared to her. And what's worse, it had been _humans_ who had shunned and showed violence towards her simply for being. As a child, no less. She must have grown up resenting humans. That, and her preference for elves, how could she fall in love with a human? A simple human with almost no redeeming qualities to offer. A simple broken human who had lost love before it had begun—who feared losing it a second time.

"Akásha…" Cullen roughly rubbed at his forehead. So many negative thoughts poured and swirled into his mind. Her words, angry whispers, and such plagued him—haunted him. This couldn't continue. He couldn't… couldn't dwell on this. It had only been a dream. Nothing more. His lovely rogue liked him well enough. That _should be_ enough. Only…

In his heart, he knew it wasn't.

0-0

Unlike her words, the Inquisitor did not return before dinner. Their food had been brought to the war room, so he and his fellow advisors could fill themselves while they waited. Cullen stared down hard at the map. He couldn't eat. He didn't feel up to it. It wasn't as though he worried. No, not really. The Inquisitor went out all the time, sometimes for ridiculous reasons. Once, she had told him she would be searching for elfroot until nightfall. _Elfroot_! He had exasperatedly replied that there were plenty of people who could do that in her place. She had merely grinned, said something about a persistent requisitions' officer, and then had attempted to pet his hair. _Puh_.

So, here they stood, waiting for the arrival of the Inquisitor. Leliana and Josephine chatted amongst themselves, occasionally attempting to pull him into the conversation. He might have seemed rude, having had given them short answers whenever they had glanced his way. But honestly, he did not want to discuss his _hair rituals_ with them. The Antivan woman seemed quite concerned his hair hadn't been styled today.

Finally, well into the time of dinner being served, the Inquisitor pushed opened the door. She wore a sheepish smile as the women greeted each other. Cullen felt a tug at his lips, noticing her casual attire. She had stopped to change before coming here. "Sorry, I'm late," she said. "Draco got a little spooked by a hyper nug that kept running in between his legs." 'Draco' is the name she had bestowed upon the Hunter Shade Dracolisk she had claimed as her personal mount. She had been debating between Draco and _Fluffy_ before finally deciding. "Had to track the little bugger down. Dorian was not happy. Neither was Cassandra." She shrugged, giving a sidelong glance his way, smiling, and then focusing on the large map on the table. "Shall we get started then?"

Josephine started, handing a written report to the Inquisitor. She gave her own commentary as the taller woman scanned the words. The Inquisitor hummed in approval, setting down the document. "If I may, I would like to continue focus on Orlais," Josephine suggested. "With the ball fast approaching, we are going to need all the influence we can get from their nobles."

"Of course, Josie. As long as _I _don't have to talk to them just yet."

"Inquisitor…!" The Antivan woman huffed, cheeks swelling just a bit. The taller woman sighed heavily, showing a pout. "It is imperative that you learn to speak with Orlesian nobles. They can be quite ruthless. You could talk yourself right into… into marriage without realizing!"

"_Marriage_?! But who would want _that_?!"

"You are in a position of power, Inquisitor," Leliana stated. "Despite your… origin, they could try to align themselves to you. I wouldn't be surprised if marriage came up, even if it were as a joke. If only to plant the seed."

"Was that meant to be bawdy?"

"Take it as you like."

Cullen refrained from rolling his eyes. He had caught the smirk on Leliana's face. The comment had certainly been bawdy coming from her. The Inquisitor held her hands up. "Fine, fine," she said. "I'll try to practice how I talk. No way would I accept any proposal. _Ew_!" Her eyes shifted to Josephine, whom had been furiously writing away. "Amongst other things, hopefully, we'll have the time."

"I have already planned your schedule," she replied, triumphantly. The Inquisitor pouted again.

"_Ew…?"_ Cullen repeated in thought, frown forming.

"Anyway, let's move on," the tall woman continued, focusing on Leliana. "Tell me what you've learned about Comte Pierre."

So the meeting went on. They all exchanged ideas, reports, and food. Well, it was more like the Inquisitor helped herself to each plate, turning it into a game of 'Let's see how fast I can swipe without the advisors knowing.' Honestly, she must have done it quite a bit because his plate of food had gradually diminished as the meeting went on. Either she had been quick about it or her fingers were stealthy as well. She couldn't hide the chewing, though.

At the moment, the Inquisitor stared down at the map, plotting what her next move might entail after the events of the Winter Palace, whatever they may be. She was silent in her musings, giving her advisors time to discuss and look over operations. When she was finally ready, she cleared her throat. "Assuming things go in our favor at the Winter Palace, our next step should be that dragon. Its interference is… problematic. We need to find a weak point. Ideas?" For a few moments, no one spoke.

"Well, contrary to belief, it is, in fact a dragon—not an Archdemon," Josephine began. "You recently acquired an agent by the name of Frederic, yes?"

"Yes…" An enlightened look pass the Inquisition's expression. "He studies dragons—Draconology, I think he called it. _Hm_. Forgot about that. Thank you, Josie." The Antivan woman nodded with a slight smile.

"No one knows more about the beasts than the Pentaghast family of Nevarra," she said. "With Cassandra's help, I could secure permission for the professor to peruse their archives for information about dragons—past and present."

"Leliana…?"

"One can learn quite a bit by dissection, and many minds are better than one," the spymaster spoke. "My agents can search all of Thedas for naturalists like Frederic to join in poring over dragon carcasses to their hearts' content."

"And Commander…? You've barely said anything. What do you think?" the Inquisitor questioned, gaze falling on him.

It was true. He had remained relatively quiet this evening. Cullen lowered his gaze to the map. He wasn't quite sure why, but… he felt a bit tense. The Commander pointed at the map. "Didn't you recently discover a dragon nesting ground here?" he asked. "Frederic might be able to learn something from it. Get him to lead a research expedition. I can supply an entourage of soldiers to protect him."

The Inquisitor hummed in thought. "All good points…" she murmured. Both ears twitched before she smirked. "Let's do all three. Josie, I would like you to convince the Pentaghast family to deliver what they can to Skyhold. Leliana, your agents should be instructed to bring these naturalists to Skyhold if possible. Once here, they can all research before heading to the nesting ground with the Commander's troops."

"That is… a lot of effort, Inquisitor," Josephine remarked. Her cheeks swelled again as a suspicious look crossed her face. "You won't be getting out of our arrangement, you know."

"That's not why," she replied. Her left ear twitched and she glanced elsewhere. Apparently, it had a bit to do with the arrangement. "I know you can handle it. I want this done."

"Yes, Inquisitor," Leliana acquiesced with a nod. "Though I must say, the effort might not be needed. I hear you've become quite the dragon slayer."

"Nothing gets by you, does it?" Her lips curled in a smile. Cullen pressed his lips into a thin line. Leliana only smirked. "The one in the Hinterlands makes six so far, yeah. Aiming for that even ten, though. Fighting dragons, it's a lot more fun than I thought." The Commander flinched, yet it went unnoticed as the two women continued to discuss dragons they had come across. It shouldn't have irked him so, but it did. They went back and forth about which of their comrades had been the loudest. Apparently, it was between Alistair and Dorian. Their laughter was not… It was just all fun and games to them—to _her_—wasn't it?

Before he knew it, the bottom of his fist slammed into the table. Abruptly, the laughter ended and the women turned in his direction, eyes wide. Cullen clenched his teeth, glaring at the war map. So much _fun_ killing a dragon that she purposely went after one. "How can you be so_ reckless_?" The question had been as heated as his chest and face. "Fighting a dragon is _fun_ to you? There are more _important things_ for you to do than to fight a dragon!" Her ears flattened against her head and her brow knitted together. Then her expression shifted to anger. Cheeks flushed, she clenched her fists at her side.

"What I do for fun is _not_ your concern!" she snarled, lip lifted to show her sharp teeth.

"Isn't it?!" Cullen spat, indignation growing. None of his _concern_? How could she possibly say that when they were-?! "You willingly throw yourself at dangerous creatures knowing full well_ thousands of lives_ depend on you! You engage in unnecessary danger knowing how high the risk is all for your… your _entertainment_! I did not expect this irrational behavior from you."

"I've been in danger since the day my parents fled the Qun," she growled. Literally growled. A deep rumble in her throat that seem to pass right through him. "A _fucking dragon_ is not going to take me out! I like fighting them, and if I want to then I _will_!"

"You don't know that!"

"Commander-"

"Your idea of fun could cost us the entire war—and then the _world_! It's _selfish_!" Cullen had ignored Josephine's attempt to get his attention. His eyes remained focused on the Inquisitor, and her hard gaze remained on him. "Is _everything_ a game to you? Must you continue to behave so carelessly? Ignoring how everyone else feels?!"

"Ignoring-?!"

"Inquisitor-" Leliana hurriedly tried to intervene, but she had been dismissed by a swipe of the Inquisitor's hand. Her palm had hit the table with a resounding clap.

"You listen to me very closely, Commander." Her voice had lost the heat and volume, and had been replaced with ice. She spoke low, but he heard every word. "_I_ am the Inquisitor. That means I do what the _fuck_ is necessary. But it also means I do what the fuck I _want_! You are the advisor—_nothing more_!" That cut him. That cut into him so deep. "You can talk all you want, but at the end of the day, my decision—my word—is your order. You fall in line or you _just fall_. You do not advise me on how to have fun. You do not control me or my life. If you don't like it… then you can be _replaced_."

Cullen breathed harshly though his nose. He realized that his heart had been thumping against his chest in a rapid manner. His breaths were borderline panting as well. He opened his mouth. "It was bound to happen sooner or later, wasn't it? Eventually, I was to be replaced with a better source of entertainment, wasn't I?" Pain flickered in her eyes, as though he had physically struck her. She swiftly turned, and then fled, leaving the door to slam shut behind her.

The silence that followed was stifling. He had felt the stunned, confused stares of his fellow advisors. Cullen did not react. He merely clenched his teeth in frustration. Josephine was the first to move. She headed for the door, taking a wary glance back before she took her leave. Gradually, the sound of his heart slow until he was not conscious of the beat. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Maker… Why didn't she understand him? Did she not care for his opinion if it concerned her _fun_? The Commander bit the inside of his mouth. That simple word with loaded meaning really grated on his mind.

"I am… almost afraid to ask," Leliana spoke. Cullen turned to her. Her voice had been calm and neutral as always, but her expression held a hidden hurricane. One brow lifted, managing to look both threatening and puzzled. A master of The Game he worked with. Sometimes he would forget. "But I believe things won't go as smoothly if the Inquisitor and Commander are at each other's throats. So tell me-" Her eyes cut, frown tugging at her lips. "-What was _that_ about?"

"It's nothing," Cullen sharply turned away. "Disagreements happen."

"Not like that," Leliana shook her head. "Not between the four of us. What you two did was not a mere disagreement. You both said things that were _meant_ to hurt each other. I was surprised by the callousness of it all." The Commander clenched his jaw.

"This… is not something I should discuss with you," he said.

"It is… and you will." Leliana crossed her arms. "I gather this has more to do with your budding romance than it does dragons." Cullen flushed, turning incredulous eyes to his fellow advisor. She merely scoffed at his reaction. "Did you honestly think I did not know? _Please_, Commander. I have eyes, and I've seen the way _your_ eyes have changed when looking at her. Besides, I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't know the happenings of the inner circle."

"I… I…" Admittedly, he was at a loss for words. He did not believe anyone knew. Their 'budding romance' had only just begun. It had barely been an entire week. Cullen cleared his throat. "Be that as it may-"

"Cullen, just tell me," she interrupted. "It would be in your best interests to gather your thoughts now than to fumble when you speak with the Inquisitor again. Your budding romance could very well wilt if the wrong thing is said." Her words made his stomach drop. Wilt…? But it had been a mere… Well, they had both been angry, but not angry enough to actually... end it.

"Maker…" Cullen muttered. "I didn't mean-"

"Of course not. But you did. You need to get to the bottom of _why_ you did," Leliana said. "I suspect that is not the dragons. She is not Qunari in religion, but she is in race. It is in her very nature to be fascinated by dragons. Like Bull, she yearns for the thrill… as I've told you after they killed that first dragon together." Cullen remembered. That night, he had been a bit jealous that the two of them had spent so much time talking about 'Atashi.' _Puh_. "I believe you used the excuse of dragons to show your displeasure at something she did or said. Something she had not been aware of."

_There's no… future for us._

How did Leliana do that? She couldn't have possibly known, and yet here she was coming to the correct conclusion. Cullen frowned, idly staring down at the table. And now he felt guilty because he realized that her words had been correct. His anger had been unmerited. She hadn't done anything. It had been his own thoughts that led him to yelling at her about something he didn't have a concern with. There was, of course, worry, but ultimately she had proven herself capable so many times before. Dangerous such as they were, a _fucking dragon_ would not take her from him. On the chance that one would… he didn't want to think about it.

"I…" Cullen swallowed hard. "I don't want to lose her because of my idiocy."

"So you know why you became upset then?" Leliana questioned.

"Yes," he answered quietly. That damned dream would not leave his mind. That dream might have very well cost him Akásha. He bit the inside of his cheek. Still… "I am… uncertain of her feelings towards me." He shut his eyes, more of the dream came to him. So flirty. So playful. So very much heartless. The Akásha of his dream had crushed him. A dream had affected him so much. "We've only just began, and yet for her, I have had strong feelings towards her for quite some time. I've never felt anything like this, and I…" He trailed off, not wanting to put it into words.

"_Ah_… So that's where that entertainment comment came from," Leliana said. "You feel once she becomes… bored, she will replace you with someone else." She had not phrased it as a question. Still, Cullen nodded in response. "And how did you come up with this?"

"I…" He felt unwilling to share his dream. "Well, she's rarely serious, isn't she? During meetings or… or sparing—those are the times she becomes serious. Other times, she's playful, so full of mirth… I… I can't help but wonder if she takes our relationship seriously or if… if it's just a fun way to… pass the time." Cullen sighed helplessly. "These thoughts… I try to block them, but as you've witnessed, I can't control it."

"Cullen…" He turned his eyes to the spymaster. Leliana gave him a flat expression, though a frown was beginning to form. "I rarely get to see the playful side of her." His brow knitted together in confusion. "To my knowledge, the Inquisitor has few close relationships, and she's very serious about each of them despite her playful nature. Cassandra. Dorian. Cole. And you. You four are the only ones who truly see her spirited side. Haven't you realized she only does that nose thing with the four of you… and her _family_?" His eyes widened as he sucked in a slow breath. "And we all know how she feels about her family."

Sweet Andraste—how could he be so _stupid_? Of course. Of _course_! He had seen her version of affection, yet had not been _aware_. He had seen it countless times. With Cassandra, she quickly bumped the tips of their noses. The warrior woman had always rolled her eyes at the display, but had not attempted to dodge. With Dorian, he had always readily returned the gesture, finding it 'adaarable', as he liked to say. The mage and rogue would rub their noses together in a flurry, giggling. Cole had always seemed indifferent to it, though. Still, the spirit boy would always murmur his thanks.

Then there was him. With Cullen, it had always been slow—so intimate. Her nose would slid against his from the side to the tip. It had always left him breathless and weak-kneed. Even before their relationship had shifted into more than friendship. So stupid. So bloody stupid. It hadn't seemed too significant until Leliana brought it to his attention. Of course, the spymaster had been right.

"I've been such a fool…" A snort from Leliana told him that she agreed. He didn't have the heart to glare. "I have to fix… I need to apologize." He began to make his way towards the door.

"I wouldn't recommend that," she replied with a nonchalant shrug. "At least not now. She is angry… and most likely confused. I doubt anything you say will calm her down. That could lead to a most unfortunate conclusion of this affair."

"… Yes. Of course." He had, after all, seen the way her eyes looked at him before she had left. Cullen sighed heavily, and then focused on Leliana. "I don't understand why you are helping me with this." She smiled faintly.

"Despite not being on the receiving end of her affections, I think of her as a friend. You as well, Commander." She moved around the table and towards the door. "Besides, can't have the world turning to shit because the Inquisition's leaders had a bit of a row." With that, the spymaster made her exit, leaving him to his thoughts.

Cullen sighed again.

0-0


	12. Try

Cullen took in a deep breath. Upon releasing it, he walked forward, moving up the stairs, and deeper into the Inquisitor's quarters. It had felt like weeks since he had last seen her. In actuality, it had only been two days… and a half, but he hadn't been counting. Admittedly, it felt foreign to him. The Inquisitor went out many times because of her duty to the cause. She would be gone for weeks on end. A mere two days—and a half—should not have filled him with a sense of longing. He would miss her for those weeks she would not be in Skyhold, but this… this was different.

She had been shut in her room. She had not spoken with anyone since she had returned to Skyhold. She had not shown up for the past three meetings. Cullen supposed that it was natural. She needed time to… adjust. After what happened, she deserved a bit of time. The Commander bit the inside of his cheek as he came to a stop at the top of the stairs. He knew she deserved time, but he yearned to see her. He almost desperately wanted to know how she was feeling. Which is the reason he had forced himself to come to her quarters. It had been odd for her not to come to him instead. Cullen let himself sigh, and then his eyes scanned the room.

He didn't see her right away. The doors to the balconies were open, so he assumed she was outside on one of them. "Inquisitor…?" he called, peeking around the corner of the open door. There she stood, hands resting on the stone barrier. She did not turn to face him nor did she acknowledge his presence. Cullen rubbed the side of his neck. She had heard him, but perhaps she was deep in thought. Still, he stepped forward until he was directly behind her. Slowly, he lifted his hand until his fingers touched her right palm.

Without surprise, she turned to him, expression docile. "Commander," she greeted with a nod of her head. Her fingers slid in between his until their palms touched. Cullen attempted to ignore the small jig his heart did. He wished that he didn't wear his gloves around Skyhold so much. He cleared his throat, looking from their connected hands to her golden eyes. "Come to check up on me?"

"Y-Yes… I don't want to seem intrusive, but I wanted to know how you are," Cullen stated. "Since we've returned, you have been…" He trailed off, not wanting her to think him rude.

"Withdrawn?" she guessed, showing a pleasant smile. Allowing himself a polite smile in return, he nodded his head. "I guess I am." She turned, pulling away from him, and faced the shine of the sun. Mildly disappointed that their hands were no longer intertwined, Cullen stepped by her side. A heavy sigh left her. "I know I shouldn't be like this since… it was a better outcome than I anticipated, but I can't-" He placed a hand on top of hers, drawing her attention before she could relive her tragedy.

"You may be the Inquisitor, but you are also a person," Cullen told her. "Like anyone, you should be able to grieve. No matter the outcome, what happened was horrible. You can take as much time as you need." For a moment, she didn't reply, only staring back at him. Then her smile formed again and widened. The rays of the sun danced in her eyes and he felt himself flushing despite the cool air. Maker, she was beautiful. He didn't realize how much he missed her real smile. _"She glows,"_ his mind provided in a whisper.

"Thank you, Cullen," Akásha said. She looked away for a moment. "I'm sorry. I just realized that I didn't thank you for what you did. You were amazing and I didn't say anything in thanks at the time."

"A lot happened. I didn't expect to be at the forefront of your mind," he replied with a careless shrug. He felt elated, though. That she remembered and thought him amazing for it. The Commander cleared his throat again. "Will you be alright?"

"I will be," she answered. "I imagine I'll return to my duties soon. Thank you for visiting, Commander."

"Anytime you need me, Inquisitor," Cullen stated. Akásha's lips parted as though she wanted to say something more, but then decided not to. She had been doing that quite often as of late. Sometimes he wished to know what went on in her head. She swiftly slipped her hand out from under his and placed it on his shoulder. She lowered her head to lightly kiss his cheek. The Commander swallowed hard. She hadn't kissed him since before the Inquisition had first arrived at Skyhold. "Akásha," he breathed, not able to think of anything else to say. Her smile was warm like the morning sun, but set his insides ablaze.

"Really… Thank you. You've been so good to me, and I appreciate it." She softly cupped his cheek, thumb stroking the skin she had kissed so nonchalantly. So unknowing of how she affected him. "I'll see you later, yeah?" Cullen nodded slowly, quite enjoying her lingering caress. When her touch left him, he snapped to attention, almost flinching away. Embarrassed—just a bit, really—he took a step back, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I think I'll try napping again. It might go well this time." Startled, his eyes shot back up to meet hers.

"Are you having nightmares?" he asked.

"No," Akásha replied, a bit too quickly. "I… just can't _stay_ asleep. But… But you made me feel better—less tense, so I should be able to now." Cullen narrowed his eyes. She did the same, but her gaze faltered. "I'll be fine. You've helped." He sighed through his nose and showed her his displeased frown. Normally, the situation would be reversed with her giving a scowl, equipped with folded arms, if he went days without eating. He was a busy man. Sometimes he would forget. Speaking of which, he wondered if she hadn't been eating either.

"… May I offer to stay until you fall asleep?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"You know I don't do that."

"Commander, it's the middle of the day. Isn't there some recruit you're supposed to be yelling at? Reports to read? Arguments to have with Leliana? Surely you have other things to do…"

"I might, but you happen to be a priority."

It had been a slip of the tongue. He hadn't meant to say it aloud. Both eyebrows raised in surprise as her cheeks darkened. Her shoulders had lifted as well. Clear signs, at least to him, that she had been flattered by his words. That was just his luck. Blurted words affected her more than carefully thought out words. "Oh…" This time, she took a step back. "Oh," she repeated, blinking twice. Her expression settled as did her shoulders, but the dark stain upon her cheeks remained. "Are you offering to join me?"

"J-_Join_ you?!" Cullen sputtered.

Akásha smirked, and then walked back inside. "Surely, you weren't planning on standing in one spot to watch me sleep?" Her voice was filled with mirth. She sat on the bed, and then lifted her foot, toes wiggling at him. "Because then it would be less endearing and more creepy, Cullen." The warrior frowned a bit. Joining her hadn't been the plan, but neither had standing. He had offered to stay on a whim, so honestly, there hadn't been a plan of action. The Inquisitor crawled backwards until her head rested on a pillow. "Spirits! You _were_ just gonna stand there!" She giggled. Cullen's frown deepened. "Come on, off with the armor."

"I wasn't," he muttered, moving towards her bed. As she requested, he began to remove bits of his armor until he was only in his pants and undershirt. Unlike before, he felt at ease this time. Perhaps it was because he had slept beside her already with both of them aware. Cullen sat down in order to remove his boots. The moment the final boot had been taken off was the moment Akásha pulled him onto the bed beside her. A startled yelp left him, but quickly died as he felt her arms around his body and her breasts pressed against his back. "Eager, are we?"

"_Yes_," she nearly purred. She then dipped her head to nuzzle the back of his neck. Cullen attempted not to let out a shuddering breath, but from her chuckle, he most likely didn't succeed. Her nose and lips against his skin felt good. But he had to wonder… Was this level of intimacy common amongst her friends? He hoped not. He wanted to be special to her. Wanted to believe that she felt something more than friendship for him. Akásha released a contented sigh. "You smell safe."

"What? _Safe_?" Cullen let out a chuckle as he shifted his body into a more comfortable position. "Safe is not a smell."

"No, it is," Akásha murmured against his neck. Her breath tickled his skin and caused his stomach to quiver. "I was raised in a forest. My family used to sleep under the roots of trees that had, over time, created a gap between the ground and the base. Spots like that were home, and I'd… Well, home is meant to keep you safe, right?"

"I smell like a forest?"

"You smell like home."

"… I see."

Cullen smiled incredibly pleased. Her compliments had always put him on top of the world, but that particular one had been… unique—tailored for him. Safe. Home. Those were positive thoughts. Nice and stable—foretelling a possible future. Well, he was assuming things, wasn't he? He glanced down at the arms that surrounded him. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes. He could get used to laying in her arms, though. And waking up in them. "_Mmm_… Cullen?"

"Yes?"

"Sing for me," she requested.

"You ask too much, Inquisitor."

"I could never ask you more than you can give, Commander." She moved her mouth and lips in a circular motion against his skin. Cullen almost squeaked in surprise and pleasure. "Come on, sing for me. I like your voice, yeah."

"You're insatiable."

He felt her lips curl against his skin. Her leg slowly moved around his body as well. Cullen sucked in a sharp breath. "You don't mind, do you?" she questioned. Slowly, he shook his head. Her leg slid up until her inner thigh rested against his side. He hoped his heart did not thump as loudly as he thought it did. "Sing," Akásha urged. "I promise to sleep. The one that you humans sang on the way to Skyhold. I want to hear it. Just you."

"As you wish." He cleared his throat. It started as a hum, and then gradually formed into lyrics. She hummed along with him. It was doubtful she knew the lyrics herself. He sang until he could no longer hear her hums. It appeared as though she had fallen asleep. She still had a firm grip, but he didn't mind. Might as well stay like this. He wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. Not until she woke up, at least. _"You are ridiculously comfortable."_

He awoke sometime later to the sound of a rumbling stomach. His own rumbling stomach. Slowly, Cullen sat up and attempted to gauge his surroundings. Oh. He had fallen asleep in Akásha's room. "Inquisitor?" he called out. It had become dark. She was no longer beside him. His arm stretched out. The spot where she had laid had no longer contained her warmth, but he did find a folded paper with his name on it. Akásha's handwriting. Smiling a bit, he lied on his back to read the message.

_Hungry? Meet me on the battlements, big kitten._

Cullen chuckled. He let his arm fall and sighed out. Eyes staring up at the ceiling, he let his mind drift. In the beginning, he couldn't possibly imagine… all this. He didn't think he would come so far with Akásha. Not really. They could so easily touch one another now. He felt surreal, and yet so normal. Touching. Cuddling. Waking up in her bed. He didn't imagine he would get the chance. And yet it had happened. Gradually, what he truly wanted could happen as well. The Commander sighed again, and then sat up. The gurgling in his stomach had yet to cease.

He moved off the bed, almost hastily grabbing at the pieces of his armor. Surely there was no rush, but his movements were hurried regardless. Akásha was waiting for him on the battlements. Once done, he ran a hand through his hair. He had decided to not wear his gloves. He just hoped his hair looked presentable. With that thought in mind, he began to make his way out of her quarters. It wasn't too long before his legs took him to the battlements.

He found her sitting upon the steps, eyes tightly shut. Her elbows rested against her knees. She seemed deep in thought. Normally, she would have heard his approached. Smiling, he stepped forward. It was then he noticed the platter of food beside her. Sliced ham, cheese, and grapes filled the decorated silver platter. There was also a bottle of… wine, perhaps? Cullen cleared his throat. Her head snapped up and her golden eyes sharpened on him. She stood up, greeting him with a nod.

"Sleep well?" Akásha asked.

"Would have slept better with a full stomach." He also would have slept better if she hadn't left his side, but he refrained from saying it. She chuckled lightly, glancing down at the food. "Luckily, you've procured a few things from the kitchens. I won't be hearing about this in the morning, will I?" Her shoulder lifted in a careless shrug. "Wonderful," he muttered, causing another chuckle. "Well, shall we reap the benefits?" Cullen moved to sit down opposite of the platter, motioning for her to sit back down as well.

"Of course," she said, lowering herself back on the stone steps. She grabbed the neck of the bottle and uncorked it with her teeth. "West Hill Brandy—found it in the Western Approach," she stated.

"But no tankards?"

"_Now_ who's being insatiable?"

Cullen smiled, watching the Inquisitor drink a bit of the brandy. She swallowed, made a bizarre face, and then passed it to him. He almost laughed out loud. It appeared that Akásha didn't like the taste. He eyed the rogue, taking a small sip from the bottle. She picked up a piece of cheese, pressed it to her lips, and then popped it in her mouth. She did that with all of her food, he realized. "So why are we out here and not in your quarters?" he asked, setting the brandy down on the step above the food platter.

"Was going to," Akásha replied with a shrug. This time, she ate a bit of fruit. "But then I realized I would be too tempted to wake you." She smirked. "You're quite the sleeping beauty." Heat rose to his cheeks, but she wasn't looking. Too busy eating. And drinking. She giggled suddenly. "No, to be honest, your stomach is really loud… and distracting. Couldn't read _Swords and_ _Shields_ without your stomach growling at me. That's what gave me the idea to get _procure_ the food in the first place."

"How very kind of you to admit," Cullen said in a flat tone of voice. She giggled again, taking another drip. A longer drink. "Hey, slow down." He took the bottle from her, but her cheeks were dark with the flush of alcohol. Her response was to stick her tongue out. Either from the taste or she was being quite childish. It seemed that the brandy worked quickly through her body. "Come, help me finish the food."

They spoke for hours. By the time Cullen realized he was feeling sleepy, the entire platter had been finished off. There was no more brandy either. Akásha laid herself on the stone steps. Despite her position, she didn't look uncomfortable. With her legs crossed at the ankles and her head resting against a step, she appeared completely relaxed. Tired, perhaps. She had just finished telling him why Cole had been found tied up, hanging upside down from the battlements. Apparently, Sera had become a bit too shocked by his sudden presence in her room. It had happened yesterday. Akásha had laughed herself breathless retelling the tale.

"You know something," she suddenly said after a moment of quietness. "Cole said he did it on purpose. Went into Sera's room. He knew what would happen. He knew I'd come running." She smiled then, shutting her eyes. "He knew I'd laugh at the situation. He wanted to help me." Slowly, she opened her eyes again. Then she sat up, back straight and knees bent. "Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric came to my room to play Wicked Grace this morning. I think… they wanted to help, too. I know they did. They made me feel better."

"And here I thought I was special," Cullen teased. Finally, her gaze turned to him. She bit her lower lip. Then she moved closer, sliding the platter out of the way. Her fingers wrapped around his arm. He could feel her warmth through the cloth. He tensed in surprise, but relaxed soon after. He bit the inside of his cheek. He was already used to her touches, but that didn't mean his body didn't respond accordingly.

"You _are_ special," Akásha agreed in a whisper. "All of you… You make me feel like there's _more_." She lowered her head. Her horn lightly touched his temple. "These last few days has made me realize… my heart hasn't been in this."

"What do you mean?" Cullen inquired softly. This was the first time he had heard of that. If someone had asked, he would hotly give an affirmative. To have her say that her heart wasn't in the Inquisition's cause…? He didn't know what to think.

"My heart… wasn't here," she muttered. "It was with my family. Everything I did, I did it for them. To save them. Not to save the world." A sigh left her. "They are who I fought for. But I didn't realize where my heart should have been. Not until recently. It should have been with the other people I care about—not just my family. People who make me feel special like Cassandra." The warrior almost gasped feeling her lips brush against the skin below his earlobe. "Dorian." Another caress of her lips. "Cole." He realized with a start that her lips were trailing alongside his jaw. "Even Varric." He felt her smile. Her lips had reached the corner of his. "But especially you." She reared back a bit. "You've seen the worst of me, and yet you're still here."

"Indeed I am," Cullen stated. He suddenly turned to face her, and Akásha sucked in a sharp breath in surprise. Their faces were so close it was a wonder how he could breathe properly. Still, his beating organ was an entirely different matter. It was nearly _roaring_. That couldn't be normal. "And here is where I'll stay. If you let me." She bit her lower lip, drawing his focus away from her eyes. Those lips he wanted to capture for so long. Those lips he imagined sliding all over his skin.

"I… I want to," she whispered, and then licked her lips.

"Me, too."

She slowly eased in, the tip of her nose bumping against his. Maker… This was really happening. It couldn't be a dream. No, this definitely wasn't. If it were, she would have taken him by now. Cullen swallowed, gaze alternating between her eyes and lips, enticing her to seal the gap between them. So close. So close that he could feel her breath on his skin. Could smell the remnants of the honeysuckle in the brandy. And- She was _drunk_. She had been drinking. She had been acting differently since she'd started. Her actions weren't her own—merely influenced by alcohol. He would be taking advantage of her. Or worse. She might not _remember_.

"No…!" he nearly exclaimed, pulling back. He heard her gasp, clearly startled by his response. She immediately released his arm and stood up, backing away from him. Cullen stood as well, watching fear take her expression. "Akásha, wait—that's not-"

"No?" she repeated, voice sounding watery. He had heard the sound only once before. "I thought you—I mean, I thought we could-" A shuddering breath left her. Then her expression changed. Completely blank.

"Akásh-"

She suddenly laughed, smile brightening her face. "I'm sorry," she said. "No, I thought-" She chuckled softly. "I thought wrong. I messed up. But it's fine." Her eyes focused on the night sky. "It's getting really late—didn't realize. I should go. Work tomorrow and whatnot."

"So then-?"

"Yup! No more lazing about. Duty calls. I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow, yeah?"

Without waiting for his response, she turned and left. Cullen watched her go, feeling both regret and hope. Regret because he had finally gotten the chance he had wanted all along, and yet he had squandered it. But hopeful because although he knew her actions were influenced by the brandy, her words had been sincere. She had wanted her heart to be here… with him. Tomorrow, with the both of them sober, he would tell her. He would finally tell her. The thought brought a smile to his face. He knew with certainty his feelings would be reciprocated now.

Tomorrow, finally, they could begin.

0-0

What should he do?

Admittedly, the question had been at the forefront of his mind since he had awakened this morning. For as long as Cullen wanted to be with Akásha, he hadn't given much thought to _how_ it would happen. In his dreams, it seemed as though they were already established, so perhaps that was the reason for not thinking of a beginning. Now, he wasn't certain how to go about it. Should he tell his feelings first? Kiss her first? No, that would not work. He wanted to be a gentlemen, and perhaps ask for permission to kiss.

Perhaps, he should prepare flowers. She liked flowers… Or at the very least a particular type of flower. Cole periodically gave Akásha purple flowers. The Inquisitor would tuck the stem of the flower behind her ear, proudly showing off her gift. However, those had been the only time he had seen her interested in flowers. Perhaps the concept of giving her that flower was special only to herself and Cole. Cullen wouldn't want to interfere with their type of bonding.

Hence his dilemma. The Commander sighed internally. This was a bit harder to think about now that he was sober. What if he fumbled this opportunity as well—tripping over his words, or better yet tripping over his own feet? She would laugh, call him a fool, and walk away. Cullen bit the inside of his cheek and narrowed his eyes. It seemed that his optimism had vanished along with the influence of alcohol. _"I should have let things progress naturally like they were,"_ he admonished himself. Now, he needed an actual plan. And words. He had to know what to say to her.

Before he could begin an awkward speech in his mind, the door to the war room opened. Cullen hastily pushed back thoughts of a confession and focused on the person entering. Actually, there were two. Josephine and Akásha walked through, and appeared to be in the midst of a humorous conversation for they both wore matching grins. The Commander felt a slight smile forming at the sight of her crinkled eyes. Good. Her mood was still elevated. "Inquisitor, we were…" he began, feeling the smile widen as she looked his way.

"Eagerly awaiting your presence… some of us more than others," Leliana finished, casting a teasing smirk his way. Cullen immediately felt heat seeping to the surface of his skin.

"I wasn't…!" he protested as Josephine giggled from her position had his side. She had moved near him without his knowledge since his attention had been on the Inquisitor. Akásha raised a brow before focusing down at the war map. "I mean, I was…" Cullen attempted to backtrack. She seemed to pay him no mind. He could feel the spymaster's leer on his person. He bit the inside of his cheek and shifted his gaze to the map as well. "We have work to do."

"Of course," Leliana stated. The Commander loudly cleared his throat. Fortunately, she took the hint and directed her gaze elsewhere. She didn't _know_, did she? As far as Cullen was concerned, only Varric knew of his attraction for the horned woman. He had assumed he had been effective with his secret. But who knew what the dwarf might say behind closed doors. The thought made him frown. "Inquisitor, we have reports from when you were away. Shall I read them?"

"Yes," she replied.

So the meeting went on. Cullen stole several glances in her direction. She may tease him about his 'Commander mode,' but she had certainly stayed in 'Inquisitor mode' during the entire meeting. Not one wisecrack. Or laugh. Or even a smile. Odd, but understandable. She had neglected her duties for days. She had needed to catch up on the back work. And also give new orders for operations.

By the time she ended the meeting, it was well pass noon. With a heavy sigh, she waved off her advisors, informing them she would remain to organize and figure out the Inquisition's next move. Leliana and Josephine nodded, making their exit to carry out her orders. Cullen lingered near the door, waiting for the two to leave completely. Once they were gone and the door shut behind them, he focused on Akásha. She looked worn, which caused a slight frown to tug at his lips. "Inquisitor," he began. She flinched, but did not turn to face him. "If you need help, I'd be more than happy to-"

"You don't have to do that," Akásha interrupted. She moved a couple pieces on the map. "I'm fine. Go about your duties." Cullen furrowed his brow, feeling puzzlement rise. She had sounded indifferent to him.

"Alright…" he replied. "_Um_… Perhaps later we can speak in my office? There's something I wish to discuss." She didn't give a reply, probably too into her work now, but she had heard. He had seen her ear twitch in acknowledgement. Slowly, he turned to go. "Until later then," he muttered, smiling a bit. He left her then, anticipating when she would come to him. For now, though, there was work to be done and sweet words to practice.

So Cullen went about his day, occasionally sparing time to pace in his office, worrying over the right words to say, when to say them, and how to say them. It had to be perfect when she finally came to him. More than likely, she would appear deep into the night. That would be preferable. It would give him enough time to actually organize his words. Plus, he loved the way her skin looked bathed in moonlight. Hopefully, he would not fumble his words at the sight of her.

By the time night fell, Cullen believed he knew what to do. But to say he felt at ease would be a lie. If he were completely honest, he was still terrified. Even though he had been given a clear sign, at the back of his mind he still thought telling her how he felt would be a mistake. He didn't want to ruin their friendship on the chance that friendship was all she wanted. The Commander shook his head. No. They had almost… kissed last night, right? She must have felt something more.

"**It hurts**…** I wasn't supposed to be hurt this time**." A familiar voice brought Cullen from his thoughts. He blinked, and then shifted his gaze to the corner of his office. There, partially hidden by shadows, Cole stood hugging himself. His eyes narrowed. Over time, he had gotten used to the boy's presence. However, time did not make him less wary. Even if the Inquisitor trusted him with her life. Cullen stood, asking why the boy had been lurking. "She promised that she wouldn't be hurt again. But she couldn't keep it. She hurts, cries, and screams. But only on the inside… so no one can see. But I can see. I can see her tears."

"What are you doing here?" Cullen asked again. Cole's appearance in his office was odd considering he tended to stay away from him like he stayed away from Sera. In fact, the boy had only approached him once before. He had wanted help obtaining an amulet. The Commander frowned, watching him as he moved from the shadows. His arms were still wrapped around himself.

"**Shit. Shit. Shit. If I looked different, would he still**…**?**" Cullen's brow furrowed. That hadn't been Cole's words. He wouldn't claim to know the boy on a personal level, but surely he knew Cole did not speak in that manner. He must have been doing his strange ability to look into a person's mind and read their thoughts. Slightly irritated, the Commander began walking towards the interloper. He had no time for Cole's shenanigans. Any minute, the Inquisitor could- "**He just can't get pass the horns. No one can**." Cullen froze abruptly. _Horns_…? He couldn't possibly mean Akásha, could he? "**I'm such an idiot. I really thought he**…** Why did I even fucking bother? I'll never be good enough for a human. Especially not him.**"

"No! That's not true!" Cullen found himself protesting, though only Cole stood before him.

"**If it weren't for this damn horns! Or maybe it's my skin—probably freaks him out,**" Cole went on, beginning to pace. "**Why couldn't he just look at me, though? Just once, I wish they would look at me. Not my fucking ugly mug!**" The Commander could only stare in horrified silence. "**Shit! I don't care anymore! I don't. I just**…** Spirits, I can't**…** Aren't I good enough without being human?** **Just look at me**…** Look at me, please**…_**LOOK AT ME**_**!**" The ending shout seemed to cause a shockwave that only he could feel. Cullen shuddered, feeling the dismay and guilt swirl within him. Maker. _Those_ were her thoughts? No. He hadn't meant- She had taken his pulling away from as a complete rejection. He hadn't meant no. He had meant _not now_. But she had not known that.

"I'm a damn fool," Cullen murmured, lowering his line of sight to the floor. Look at me. Hadn't that been his thought just a few months prior when this had all began? He breathed out, heavy like his heart. He had to go to her and rectify the mistake. To have her thinking those thoughts so soon after… Maker, how did he not realize?

"She pretends and smiles, but she bleeds and grows bitter," Cole continued. He removed his arms from around himself. "She doesn't want to hurt. She wants to leave. Come back only when the anger twists in her, making her hate or worse. Not feel anything at all. That is not her. That is not who she is. You…" His blue eyes almost glared at him. "You made her this way. You hurt her."

"… Unintentionally," Cullen replied helplessly.

"Yes," the younger male agreed. His huge hat hid his eyes again. "I wanted to help, but I can't make her forget. She doesn't want to forget. Doesn't want to hurt again. So… you have to help her. You have to stop the tears and the screaming. She used to sing so delightfully. Like a fire in the middle of winter. Now there's just screaming. So much screaming. And rain. The rain douses out the spark and she sings no more."

"I will make this right," Cullen whispered more to himself than Cole.

"Go. She waits on the battlements," the boy pointed to the door. "She doesn't remember why, but I took something from her to lead her there. It's the only way I could help her. Now… You can help her."

"I will," he stated, turning away. The moment he did, he blinked in confusion. When had he stood up from his desk? No matter. He had to see Akásha. Why he waited up now to explain his actions last night were beyond him, but he didn't want her misunderstand. For some reason, he knew exactly where she was currently. Waiting for her to come to him did not seem like such a good idea anymore.

Cullen exited his office, not bothering to close the door. He felt an urgency in getting to her. His steps were hastened. Because of this, he reached the door quicker than he had time to think of exactly what to say to her. His hand hovered over the handle, breath caught in his throat. All those perfect words he had practiced would be useless in this situation. He clenched his jaw, hesitating only a moment more before opening the door. He would have to hope he didn't blunder his explanation.

He found her as he did last night, sitting on the battlements steps. Only this time, she sat close to the wall. So close that she appeared to be hugging it. Left hand pressed against it, along with her right horn. He could barely see her face because her hair was left to fall around her head. Cullen swallowed hard, stepping forward. A slight movement behind her dark tresses told him that she had heard his approach. She lifted her head, tilting it towards him. Then her head jerked violently. She hurriedly stood. He still couldn't see her face. "Cullen…!" Akásha exclaimed, clearly surprised to see him. "… Commander," she lowered her voice. He saw her take a step back.

"Akásha," he greeted. He smiled, but she turned her head away. The Inquisitor moved a hand through her hair, tucking strands behind her ear.

"I… lost my hair tie," she told him. Still, she wouldn't look his way. "I… don't know why I thought it was out here. Anyway, I should go." There was a pause on her end, but she did begin walking towards him. Her intention was clear to him. She had planned to move around him. Once she was on the same level as himself, Cullen blocked her path.

"We have to talk," he said. She tensed and her ear twitches were the equivalent of her being uncomfortable. "About last night." His clarification caused panic to flash in her eyes.

"We don't," Akásha forced out through clenched teeth.

"Yes, we do. I don't want there to be a… a misunderstanding between us."

"There's no misunderstanding. I understand quite clearly, so let's just leave it how it is. Forget it ever happened, yeah?"

"No! Listen to me, please."

Finally, she looked at him. However, her eyes had become golden steel behind lowered eyelids. She appeared apathetic. On purpose. This expression had never been directed at him, but he knew what it meant. Intimidation on the highest level. By wearing that expression, she knew it reminded people of the stone-faced Qunari in Kirkwall. There were many who had not experienced coming face to face with the horned soldiers, but words were indeed powerful. And now she used it on him. Maker, it had been a mistake last night. He should have let their first kiss happen, damn the consequences.

"I must return to my quarters. I will see you in the morning," Akásha said, leaving no room for protest. However, he couldn't let this go. Bolstering himself, he opened his mouth.

"I always dream of kissing you."

Quick as a snap, her expression morph into shock. Her shoulders lifted slightly and both ears twitched at a rapid pace. This was not how he planned on telling her. But he had become desperate upon seeing such a look on her face. He couldn't let her walk away hurt and confused. She had to understand. He had a sickening thought of her putting herself down because of the misunderstanding. No. He couldn't have that. Cullen would not allow it. This woman, who had picked him up and firmly planted his feet back on the ground, should not have to belittle herself. Certainly not because of a mistake. One that he made.

Akásha glanced away. When her eyes settled back on him, they were softer, but definitely not warm yet. Not the eyes he was used to seeing. "You're lying," she accused. "You're pitying me. You don't have to do that. It's the not first time I've made a fool of my-" Cullen moved closer to her and she breathed in sharply. However, she did not back away.

"You are not to be pitied," he nearly raised his voice. Slowly, he let out his breath. If he had continued, it would have taken the conversation in another direction. "I would not lie to you, especially not about this. I do. I dream of kissing you. I think about kissing you _every day_ and it drives me almost mad that I _can't_." Cullen felt his stomach flop, seeing her cheeks darken. She didn't say anything, but his words were definitely effecting her. "I imagine the way we kiss all the time, but… alcohol would never be a part of it. Last night, I became selfish. I didn't want a kiss that you might not remember. I didn't want to start, knowing our beginning had been influenced by brandy. Forgive me for pulling away. Forgive me for reacting to my own thoughts instead of your actions."

Akásha released a shaky breath. She squeezed her eyes shut and held up her hand as though warding him away. She, instead, rubbed at her temple. Her ears had yet to stop twitching in that hurried manner. "You… I… Wait, let me think," she mumbled. The rogue moved, placing her hands on the misshapen formation of stone. For several moments, she didn't speak. Then she abruptly turned to face him. Cullen had moved directly behind her so she let a gasp slip. The distance between them was smaller than it had been. Akásha pressed her back against the wall and bit her lip. "You… You've wanted to kiss me. You _care_ for me?" she asked.

"Yes," Cullen answered.

"You're not bothered by…"

"No. Your height, horns, and skin are a part of you. I… care for all of you. I…" He felt so much hotter. His entire face must have resembled a tomato. "I find you… utterly beautiful." She smiled. However tiny it had appeared, it had still appeared and caused his chest to flutter, hopeful and giddy. Then it dropped.

"… Then why haven't you…?" Akásha trailed off, glancing away uneasily.

"You're the Inquisitor. I'm just a man. And… we're at war. I had resigned myself to keeping these feelings to myself. It seemed too much to ask… I thought it was impossible." Cullen moved closer, stepping up on the squared stone, which was at the base of the wall. With the added height, her lips were now aligned with his. His hands lingered over her waist, waiting for confirmation. So close now. If she still… wanted it, he would not hesitate again.

"Impossibility is something a coward would use," Akásha muttered. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. Cullen felt his heart jump. "From what I've seen, you are no coward… are you?" _Ah_. There it was. Her confirmation. Only she would confirm and provoke. He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to show just how pleased he was.

"Let me show you then…" Cullen replied, dropping his voice lower. He leaned forward, hands sliding down to rest on her hips. She didn't tense, merely stood there, waiting. "Because I am _no_ coward." He tilted his head a bit, drifting closer. Only a hair away and the distance would cease. He would finally-

"Commander!" Unbelievable. So close, only to be interrupted. Cullen slowly turned to an approaching soldier, eyes alight with hot fury. It was a new face, though the boy seemed familiar. "I've finally cleaned all the mounts hooves and bathed them, finishing my punishment. I've completed a written report, too." His eyes shifted from the paper in his hand to them. He blinked, finally noticing the glare. "_Uh_…" His gaze slowly moved from Akásha to Cullen.

"What?!" the Commander almost bellowed, but kept his teeth clenched.

"Am I _interrupting_ something? Cuz it kinda seems that way…" Had the boy no tact whatsoever? Cullen had remained standing very close to the Inquisitor. Hadn't moved except to turn his head. He still had not removed his hands from her body either. They had stayed firmly on her hips. Admittedly, it was the only thing keeping him from walking over to the recruit and giving a solid punch to his throat. The Commander opened his mouth to growl out a vicious threat, but Akásha did it for him.

"Are you _fucking_ kidding me?!" she snarled. Cullen looked her way, but her eyes were burning holes in the boy's body. He imagined the recruit flinching, and then standing at attention, realizing he had caught the ire of the horned woman. The boy stammered out her title, sounding about ready to piss himself. Perhaps he hadn't know it was her. It was dark. "Are you interrupting?! Do you _have_ eyes?!" The Commander barely paid attention to the weeping like response. His attention had been stolen by the fierce expression that overcame her face. "Turn around. Run away. And just maybe I will forget your blunder and not _sacrifice_ you to the Fire Spirit!"

Cullen didn't see, but he certainly heard the scampering, and then the door slamming shut. He watched her, flushed and nearly panting. She hadn't torn her eyes away from where the recruit had disappeared. Not wanting to be forgotten, he lifted his left hand, placing it on her right cheek. She jolted, but did not recoil from his touch. She opened her mouth, but he didn't let her talk. Maybe it was hasty of him. But he couldn't resist. Could no longer wait. He meshed his lips against hers. She tensed for only a moment before she pressed back just as hard. The kiss was rushed, frantic, and filled with so much heat. Like beasts who had been restrained for too long, their mouths ran wild against each other.

So overwhelmingly wonderful, the kiss, being so close to her, her scent—it sent him spiraling into oblivion. Only her. As if they were the only two in the world, his focus was completely on her. Body trembling, fingers gripping the back of his neck as though afraid he would escape her. Oh no. She had him, so utterly had him. There could be no escape. Akásha whimpered against him, and Cullen realized it had become harder to breathe. He released her lips, only pulling back slightly. Shivers raked his body. He tried to come down from the high she had inflicted. Harder than he thought it would be.

"I'm… I'm sorry," he said, lightly panting. He bit his lips, forcing himself not to press against her again. Cullen swallowed, finally opening his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy, though. "Th-That was… _um_… really nice." He pressed his forehead against hers, lowering his hand from her cheek and giving her right side a squeeze. "… Wasn't it?"

"Well, it's certainly what I was aiming for," Akásha replied, corner of her lips curling in satisfaction. Cullen returned the small smile.

"Oh. Good."

He kissed her again. This time, it was slow, smooth, soft, but just as searing as the first. They took time to explore. Took time to learn each other's mouths. They breathed through their noses to prolong the euphoric feeling. Maker, he should have kissed her long ago. This was better than anything he had conjured in his mind. Better than any dream. Cullen reared back slowly, lips lingering on hers before she pulled back as well. She inhaled through her mouth and exhaled shakily through her nose. Akásha suddenly laughed lightly. "Spirits, I could kiss you all night," she told him, a bit winded.

"I could kiss you all day," he stated. Lightly, he caressed her right ear, watching the tip twitch beneath his fingers. Another giggle left her. "But I imagine if we both got our way, not many things would get done." Despite his words, he leaned in to kiss her again. Gentle and chaste. But also repeatedly.

"_Hm_… yeah…" Akásha agreed with a nod once he stopped kissing her. Her hands slid across his shoulders. She bit her lower lip. "How… How long have you wanted to kiss me?" He chuckled.

"Longer than I should admit."

"Can you tell me? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"… I…" Cullen furrowed his brow. It seemed he had been wanting to for a long time. Thinking back, maybe from the beginning? No. Not that early. "It was… when I found you after Haven." Right. Before that moment, all he had were fantasies. Kisses that remained in his dreams because he had known they would never come true. He had wondered and fantasized, but had never truly wanted to. That changed the moment he had caught her in his arms. "I was so relieved to see you alive that I… didn't think of anything else."

"Wow… that long, huh?" Akásha asked with a teasing smirk. Cullen bit the inside of his cheek, feeling himself flush in slight embarrassment. The rogue shut her eyes, tilting her head a bit to the left. She pressed her lips to the skin of his neck, and he found himself squeezing her sides. "For me… It was soon after we came to Skyhold. Do you remember? You gave me your word that I wouldn't be a sacrifice." Of course he remembered. That had been the first—well, second—time he had said her name out loud. "Everyone else treated me like… a spectacle. I had just become Inquisitor, after all, but you…" She sighed out, causing a shudder to course throughout his body. "Well, no one has ever made me a vow before… I was touched. And I thought maybe… it was possible that you might-"

"It is possible," Cullen cut in. "I mean… I do."

"I guess you do." Akásha lifted her head, smiling faintly. Both of her hands lightly touched his cheeks. He shut his eyes, merely enjoying the way her thumbs stroked his skin. A soft sigh left her. "Thank you," she whispered, rubbing her nose against his. "For seeing me, Cullen."

"It's me who should be thanking you," he whispered back. He meant it. With all of himself, he meant it. Tilting his head, the Commander captured the Inquisitor's lips again. _"Thank you for seeing me, too, Akásha."_

0-0


	13. Hurt I

"Inquisitor, is this really necessary?"

Her answer was to merely chuckle. Cullen almost rolled his eyes, only partially annoyed. Mostly, though he tried to hide it, he was actually quite content. After this morning's meeting, the Inquisitor had followed him to his office. Of course, she had given him time to give orders to his soldiers, write one report, and look through a few documents before she kicked open his door. Literally kicked it open. Her hands were full, after all. After staring at her in shock for several moments, the Inquisitor had smiled and stated she would help him relax.

Now, she was fiddling with one of the bottles she brought with her. In addition, she had brought a bucket full of water, a few other bottles, a small dagger, and a towel. How she managed to carry all that would remain a mystery. Akásha had urged him up to his quarters and followed after him with all the items. She had ordered him to remove his lion mane and his pieces of armor. Cullen had done so without hesitation. Now, he sat on his bed, waiting for her to return her attention back to him. When she did, she held up her hands, showing some type of green substance in her left hand and the curved dagger in the other. "Should I be worried?"

"Don't be silly, big kitten," Akásha told him. She walked forward, and then moved down to her knees in front of him. Cullen's heart lurched as he tried very hard not to imagine anything else. Unbeknownst to his inner struggles, the horned woman placed the dagger beside his thigh. "I'm going to shave you." Of course, he stuttered out a protest. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing. My mother taught me. I won't even nick you." Before he could protest further, Akásha placed herself in between his legs and all logical thought left him. He tensed as she dipped two fingers in the palm filled with the green… goo? She then turned her attention to him, placing her fingers near his cheek.

"If…" She hesitated, looking a bit bashful. "If you don't want me to continue… I will stop."

Cullen shook his head. "No." A chuckle left him, though it sounded a bit strained. After all, she hadn't moved from her kneeling position. "You've already prepared. Besides, I suppose I have been neglecting myself." Akásha smiled and nodded her head, and then proceeded to smear the green substance on his face, starting with his right cheek. It didn't feel like goo as he had expected. Rather, it lathered like soap. And it was cool against his skin. Cullen shut his eyes, honestly liking the sensation of her fingers as well as the substance. Her gentle touch moved across his jaw, around his mouth, under his chin, and his throat. His fingers curled against his knees as the horned woman continued to apply the substance to his skin. This was _intimate_, wasn't it? He wouldn't allow anyone else to do this. Would she do this for another man? The question made him pursed his lips. The thought of her doing this with another man had caused slight irritation.

Once she was finished, he could hear her using the bucket of water to remove the excess goo from her hands. Then he felt the towel wrap around his neck, spread out across his shoulders. Her hand slid across his thigh, causing Cullen to nearly jolt and open his eyes. However, she had been aiming for the dagger beside him. Akásha met his eye, and then slowly leveled the dagger with his throat. "I'll be careful, but try not to move around so much, yeah?"

"I trust you," Cullen stated. However slight, he still noticed her cheeks darken. She glanced elsewhere before returning her gaze to him. Akásha nodded again, and then began. She tilted his chin up to have better access. The edge of the dagger moved against his skin in an upward glide to his chin. She turned a bit, dipping the dagger in the bucket of water. The towel was used to wipe the dagger clean before she resumed the task of shaving. She did this several times before Cullen could no longer hold back his voice. Mostly because watching her like this—her being this close—made him want to lean forward. It would only take a slight movement on his part to completely close the distance. "You said your mother taught you?" he questioned, attempting to distract himself from such thoughts.

"Yes," she answered. Her eyes remained focused on her task as she spoke. She didn't seem to notice his staring. "She's brilliant at it. I used to watch her do this all the time. Don't know why, but I was fascinated with the process. Practically begged her to teach me, yeah. I practiced with the old men in our village. Started young. Now I can do it without bloodshed. But she will always be better than me, I'd say. She's a natural caregiver. She did that sort of stuff with ease."

"… I thought you said your mother taught you how to fight," Cullen muttered. "I had assumed she had been a warrior of the Qun." Akásha paused. Then she breathed deeply through her nose before continuing sliding the dagger.

"No. My mother was a Tamaasran. Even though she had a bit of talent for fighting, they believed her role would be better suited for other things," she stated. "Her focus was on child-raising and counseling those in need by any means necessary—anything to help them relax. To be honest, I don't really know the details. She didn't really talk about her life before she and father fled Par Vollen."

"Have you asked Bull?"

"… Dragons are the only thing we have in common. We don't talk about the Qun or the roles people live under while following the Qun," Akásha admitted. "It's… an uncomfortable subject for the both of us. Me being _Vashoth_ and all. And Shokrakar didn't like talking about anything relating to the Qun either. Now that I think about it, none of my comrades spoke aloud about their past lives."

"I see." That was something Cullen could understand. They may be different, but not wanting to bring up past memories of something… unpleasant seemed universal. "Vashoth…?" He had seen that word only once before. In one of the letters she had received from her mercenary band. He hadn't known what it meant. He had heard of Tal-Vashoth. There had been many in Kirkwall, not that he had to deal with them.

"Oh, I guess I don't refer to myself that way. _Um_… I don't know what it translate to, courtesy of the assholes I call comrades who thought it was a big joke to not tell me-" Cullen had to stop himself from chuckling. "-But I do know it means I was raised without knowledge of the Qun. An outsider of my people, I guess."

"You really believe that? Your people?"

She didn't respond right away. For a time, she merely continued to work on his face. Her focus was completely on the hairs around his mouth. Akásha placed the dagger in the bucket and began wiping the rest of the lathered substance. "Qunari were never my people," she stated. "But I won't lie and say I never thought of 'what if.' Now… I know my people. My _people_ are the Inquisition."

"Good to know." She showed her teeth in a smile. She reached for a bottle on the floor. She poured a white cream into the palm of her hand, and then rubbed it all over her hands. Cullen didn't need to know what it was. Just as he hadn't needed to know what the green goo had been. As he told her, he trusted. Akásha pressed her hands to his face. He let out a gasp of surprise. Whatever it was felt _hot_. Almost too hot. But at the same time, it was soothing. So comforting. Almost his entire body relaxed as she continued to massage his face and throat. He almost fell against her. "M-Maker…!" The sensation seemed to be coursing through his body. All the way down to his toes.

"You like that?" Akásha asked, grin in her voice.

"Yes… Yes!" Cullen shuddered, feeling her fingers rise to his temples. His head rolled back and he heard her giggle. As she continued to massage his face, he couldn't help the groans that slipped through his lips.

"I like it, too—that sound you make." She then abruptly pulled away. The Commander opened his eyes, startled and disappointed. Akásha looked elsewhere, cheeks dark. "I'm sorry… An-Anyway, this stuff relieves tension in the body, so maybe it could help with headaches." She stood up and took a step back. "If you like it, I could get more ingredients for it." Before she could move further away from him, he grabbed her right wrist.

"I would like that—thank you, Akásha." The horned woman bit her lip, but it didn't stop the smile. "Is that why you did this? I didn't have a headache."

"I know, I just-" She shrugged. "At the meeting this morning, you said that you were—getting them, I mean." Ah. He remembered that fleeting conversation. Leliana had asked if he had been feeling alright, and he had responded, telling her that only headaches plagued him. Cullen hadn't thought she heard. Akásha had been so focused on the map. But apparently she had been listening. "_I_ was the one that said—_ordered_—you to not take lyrium. You get headaches because of it. I wanted to let you know I could help."

"You have helped… more than you know," he admitted. Cullen stood up, decreasing the distance between. Biting the inside of his cheek, his fingers slipped down to hold her hand. "I appreciate you, Akásha."

"Oh… I do, too. Appreciate you. _Uh_…" To his disappointment, she pulled away from him. "Did you need help getting your armor back on?" Cullen turned away from her, looking towards the pieces of metal he had toss near the head of his bed.

"I'd rather not risk you keeping the lion's mane for yourself." To his joy, he heard her chuckle.

"Well, at least you're not naked this time, yeah?"

Her words brought a rather unpleasant memory of playing against Josephine in Wicked Grace. He should have known he would be embarrassed by the end of the night because it had been Varric who had invited him. It did not help that Akásha had not taken her eyes off him even as he had fled. Later that night, she had returned his clothing. All but the 'lion mane.' To get that back, he had nearly begged. But she had worn it proudly for two days straight. Maker, this woman.

"Anyway, I should go." She sucked in a breath. "I'll stop by later to hear a few reports."

"I'd like that," Cullen replied, feeling a smile tug at his lips. In response, she did the same and nodded. Then she headed for the opening in his floor. Unceremoniously, she slid down the ladder. He heard her landing. Shortly after, he heard the door shut, signaling her departure. The Commander chuckled lightly. If she kept behaving like she was, it would only be a matter of time before he lost control and kissed her. Before the thought could distract him, Cullen shook his head a bit before focusing on his armor.

0-0

True to her word, the Inquisitor had returned to his office later on during the day. They had started right away as he had been in 'Commander mode' when she had entered. They had gotten through several reports before Cullen realized how close they had become. In the beginning, she had sat comfortably in his chair while he read the reports out loud. Gradually, she had stood near him, asking questions pertaining to which ever report he happened to had been reading. To be honest, he hadn't noticed until her arm brushed against shoulder.

Leaning over the desk, focusing solely on the parchment, the Inquisitor did not seemed to notice the proximity of their bodies. Cullen, though, struggled a bit to calmly answer her questions. The heat he felt in his cheeks had yet to go away. If he hadn't known better, he would think she did this on purpose. "Speaking of Ser Barris… What do you think of him?"

"In what sense, Inquisitor?"

"Well… I'm interested in him." Cullen had to stop himself from choking on his own saliva. _Interested_…?! Akásha shifted her gaze from the parchment, which detailed the results on the Templars' last mission, to him with an unreadable expression. "He is a valiant man, isn't he?" He supposed he did not respond quickly enough. Really, he was still wrapping his head around what she had meant about being interested in him. The rogue raised a brow. "Commander…? Do you disagree?"

"No." Cullen cleared his throat, abashed. "No, he's fine. _Fine._"

"Yes. He's completed his assigned tasks effectively with minimal bloodshed," Akásha continued, turning her body around. She leaned against his desk and crossed her arms under her chest. Cullen kept his gaze on the parchment, but his focus was not there. "He's… _precise_ in his duty. Surprising for what he has been taught as a Templar. I think he could be the one I want."

In his chest, his lungs felt as though they were constricting too much. The Commander bit the inside of his mouth quite hard. It was a surprise that he didn't taste blood. He had never heard the Inquisitor compliment a man with so much enthusiasm in her voice. And _want_…? Was she seriously discussing a… a _love interest_ with him? "I…" He swallowed thickly. "I hardly think I am the one to discuss this with, Inquisitor."

"Of course you are," she dismissed his protest. "_You_ are the one who put the thought in my head." She hummed a bit. "How do you think I should go about it, though? I'm in a position that I can approach him, but I'm not sure if it's something he would be interested in."

"Why _him_?" Cullen asked, hopefully concealing the scathe.

"He's brilliant, isn't he? I think so…"

"…"

"… Commander?"

"…" His fingers curled, attempting to think of something to say without showing his distaste for the subject. He tried so hard not to let the thought of Delrin Barris and who he had claimed as his—so many times in his mind—fester and spread like a poison, but from the looks of the crinkled parchment in his fist, he wouldn't be able to. "If I can speak freely, Inquisitor." Cullen felt, rather than saw, her nod. "Ser Barris is a good man. There is no denying that. But… I don't believe he is the man for you."

"_Huh_?"

"Perhaps you should reconsider your choice," he suggested. "There are others, I'm sure that would leap at the chance to… to… be at your side. I wou-" He loudly cleared his throat to prevent himself from stating that he would definitely leap. "You and he wouldn't work well together… I think."

"… What the _fu_-" The Inquisitor abruptly halted her sentence, causing Cullen to hesitantly turn to look at her. She appeared… baffled. Then her lips parted, forming a circle. "That's—sorry. I don't think I was clear enough." She turned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not interested in Ser Barris as… well, a _man_. I was thinking of promoting him to Knight-Commander."

"Oh," Cullen breathed. Relief flooded through him like a river. "Oh… Well, I seemed to have made a mistake." Uneasily, he shifted his line of sight to the Inquisitor again. His hand uncurled and released the report. Akásha's hand slid from his shoulder.

"_Um_…" He couldn't help but noticed her flushed cheeks and the slight smile on her face. "It's surprising you think of stuff like that, yeah." Her ears twitched. "Out of curiosity, what type of man would work well with me?"

"Inquisitor, I don't think-" Cullen began to stammer. Akásha chuckled lightly and informed him that she was only teasing. The Commander coughed lightly, feeling his cheeks grow hot. She then asked what he thought of Ser Barris again. "A-As you said, he is a good leader. The Templars he commands looks up to him. You have the Templars as allies. They will listen to you. Making Ser Barris Knight-Commander would not receive backlash."

"That's what I was hoping for. He could be… the catalyst for reforming the Order," Akásha agreed with a nod. "Under his command, the Templars could be seen as protectors again, and not just glorified jailers. Your thoughts on how the Order should be are admirable, and I want to make that happen."

"_Ah_… You remembered." So that's why she had said that he had put the thought in her head. "You think Ser Barris is the one to make that possible?" She nodded her head again. "Then… You have my support." Akásha smiled, and Cullen didn't stop his own smile from forming. "I would like to be there when you do promote him, though."

"Of course. I want you to be there." The tips of her ears flattened against her head. "Despite… Despite what you went through as a Templar, you still… think the Order is worth saving. You're a better man than you realize. To be honest, if you were still a Templar, I would want you as Knight-Commander."

"… Thank you, Inquisitor. That means a great deal."

"I'll just have to settle for you being my Commander, though."

Maker... He wanted to tell her. Now. He wanted to tell her how she made him feel. How her words and actions affected him so much. How he wanted to be more than just her Commander. "Akásha…" Cullen began. He bit the inside of his cheek. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked towards the floor for a moment. "I want to say something that could be shocking to hear."

"You can tell me anything, Cullen."

"… Yes." Slowly, he met her curious gaze. Oh no. The great jittery feeling had returned. He hadn't felt like this since he had that first dream of her back in Haven. Being so nervous to face her. Cullen swallowed thickly, and then attempted to relax his shoulders. "About me… Could you consider… _um_… If there is a ch-chance… you-" An urgent knock sounded, interrupting his words. Cullen sighed out, dropping his line of sight. The knocking came again, more rapidly than before. Akásha had turned towards the door so there was no hope now, anyway. "Come in," he almost huffed.

The door opened, revealing a scout. She saluted, and then her eyes flickered to the Inquisitor. "Good, you're both together. Saves me the trouble of finding you, Inquisitor," she said, bowing her head in acknowledgement. "I have news for you."

"What is it?" Cullen asked.

"About an hour ago, a solider returned from his post. He is requesting to speak with the both of you."

"Why wasn't I informed of this sooner?"

"That's the thing, ser… The soldier came back unconscious on horseback," the scout explained. "The healer only managed to rouse him only moments ago. The first thing he said were your titles, and that it was urgent he speak with you."

"He didn't say anything else?" the Inquisitor inquired.

"No, he said he could only say it to you two. He had been on a confidential mission. Right now, he is awaiting your audience in the healer's tent."

"Alright. You're dismissed." Confidential missions were delicate, and as such not many knew of them. Even the soldiers sent out how no idea where they were going or the parameters of the mission itself. Until, at least, they had successfully reached the specified location. The scout, nodded, saluted, and then left to go about her other duties. Most likely, she would report to Leliana, if she hadn't already.

"I didn't know you deployed _soldiers_ for secret missions," the Inquisitor said, looking towards him. "Isn't that Leliana's forte?"

"There are times when soldiers are needed instead," Cullen replied, heading for the door. "Shall we?" The horned woman nodded, and then followed after. "What I'm curious about is why this solider requests your presence as well. You did not know of his task."

"Do you even know what the task was?"

"Not at the moment, but after an explanation, I will."

Their walk took only a few moments. Their steps had been slightly hurried since they did not know the condition of the soldier. Upon their arrival, one of the healers greeted them, and ushered them into a tent. He began to explain as their eyes examined the man. He had burns, cuts, bruises… and apparently frostbite. _"Mages…?"_ Cullen thought, frowning. The man's breath was clearly labored, but he showed signs of moving to sit up.

"Don't make this worse," the Inquisitor moved by his side, forcing him back down by applying pressure to his shoulder.

"In-Inquisitor…" His voice weak and strained made Cullen wonder how long he would be conscious. "Commander… I-I've f-failed…"

"You haven't failed anything, yeah?" The Inquisitor kneeled beside the cot. "Tell me. Who attacked you? Is there anyone else we should be looking for?"

"I… I don't know… I do-don't remember h-how I man-managed to escape," he whispered. Cullen moved a bit closer to hear clearly. "B-But it wa-was the Ven-Venatori. Thi-This woman… They attacked so sudden-suddenly."

"Where? Where were you stationed?" Cullen asked.

"Cl-Clemency."

The Commander sucked in a sharp breath. The details of the mission had become quite clear in his mind. The Inquisitor abruptly stood up, understanding quite clearly why she had been called as well. "Are there any survivors?" she demanded to know, voice taking on a chill.

"I-I don't know…! Pl-Please, Inquisitor… I am so-sorry. I cou-couldn't pro-protec-" His sentence was cut off by a coughing fit. The loud coughs were enough to draw the healer's attention. He hastily, and cautiously, moved around the Inquisitor, giving the soldier some type of tonic. Once able to breathe properly, the soldier continued. "Th-There might be som-some villagers le-left… I-I hope."

Cullen noticed the way her jaw clenched. "That's enough. Rest. We will take care of the situation," he stated. The Commander bit the inside of his cheek, and then moved to guide the Inquisitor out of the tent. However, she snatched away from him, nearly knocking him over as she exited the tent on her own. He swallowed hard before following after the horned woman. Clearly, she was upset, cantankerous even. It would be difficult to approach her on this manner. "Inquisitor…!" He called out to her, but she had not stopped her movements. "_**Akásha**_!" Finally, she stopped, allowing him to catch up to her. She stood stiffly, and didn't turn to face him. "I know this is a-"

"Commander…!" She cut in harshly. "I am leaving. Inform Leliana and Josephine of my departure. I don't know when I will return."

"Inquisitor, you-"

"I will be taking Dorian, Solas, and Cassandra with me, and-"

This time, he had been the one to interrupt her. He had grabbed a hold of her wrist and spun her around to face him. "Akásha, please…! You need to calm down." Cullen felt her almost jerk away from him, but he held strong. "Allow me to accompany you. I could help."

"… Cullen… This is-"

"I know, and I am willing to do anything to make this right."

For a moment, she did not respond. He could see that her entire body was rigid, horrible possibilities churning in her mind. Cullen could imagine exactly how she felt. He had felt the same. However, for her, it was not just friends. It was her family. Her home village had come under attack by the enemy. She must be sick with worry. Rage. And regret. He could not allow her to sink in these emotions. Finally, Akásha released a shaky breath.

"Ready the horses," she ordered. "I'll get the others. And a few essentials."

"Yes, Inquisitor." Cullen let her go, and then turned to carry out her order. He would be a fool to try and comfort her now. He did not know the situation in the village, so telling her it would be okay would be futile. He would wait to comfort her. Wait until they knew exactly what happened. But… there had to be some way to reassure her. _"I'll do what I can,"_ he vowed in thought.

0-0

The group had traveled in silence. Cullen had taken the place of Cassandra. He had been the one to explain to Dorian and Solas where they were going and why they had to leave Skyhold and travel with haste. Because of this, they had traveled mostly in silence. Banter had been kept at a bare minimum. Akásha had taken the lead, and had not allowed rest. They had traveled well into the night, and dawn was quickly approaching. Their destination was a village called Clemency, a place that didn't appear on any map. Only a few outsiders knew of the village's location. How the enemy had discovered the village remained a mystery. A mystery they hadn't had the luxury of finding out.

Cullen, once again, shifted his gaze to the Inquisitor's back. Not knowing of her family's fate, she must be feeling all sorts of emotions. He wished he could do something to ease the tension. For right now, at least. It was then he noticed that the Inquisitor's horse had begun to slow. He pulled at the reins, slowing his horse as well. Only when she came to a complete stop did anyone voice their confusion. "Why are we stopping?" Dorian questioned, mount halting alongside his. "I didn't think she'd want to rest."

"We're here," the Inquisitor replied as though she had heard the question. "We travel the rest of the way on foot. If the Venatori are still… in the village, they would hear the horses approaching. Also, we're not continuing on the path. Horses won't be able to make it the way we're going." Cullen sighed, watching the Inquisitor dismount. Despite the situation, she was still thinking with a clear mind. It was a relief. He, too, dismounted, still holding the reins. He guided his horse over to the Inquisitor's before gather her reins. She didn't look at him as he urged the horses over to a tree.

Mildly disappointed, Cullen tied up the horses before moving to the Inquisitor's side. Dorian and Solas quietly did the same. As she stated, she headed away from the path and began to climb a very steep hill. While he and Dorian had to use both hands and feet to climb, Solas and she didn't seem to have much trouble. It was a long climb, but they all made it to the top. At the top was a cavern. Remote access. A secret passage to the village. None of the reports from Clemency mentioned it. Must have stayed on the path, which meant the enemy didn't know of this location either.

"Not to sound paranoid, but there aren't any giant spiders nesting in there, right?" Dorian asked.

"No. This place is only known to me and my little brother," the Inquisitor stated, apparently not sensing his attempt to lighten the mood. She remained stoic. "Wouldn't keep using it if spiders were attracted to it. Let's go." She moved forward, motioning them to follow her. Cullen went first, directly behind her. It had been a long time since he heard her voice in that detached manner. Closer and closer they would get to the village. Closer to learning the fate of her family. Her mother, father, and little brother. It had to be hard on her.

Inside, the cavern was dark. Cullen could hardly see the Inquisitor's form in front of him. Swallowing a bit, he reached for her right hand with his left. She tensed, but did not stop moving. He gave her hand a squeeze, silently soothing her. It took a moment, but she squeezed back in thanks. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was something, at least. In the dark, he held on to her, not worried about the other two behind him. For now, this was enough.

Only when he saw the light from the morning sun on the other side did he release her hand. She had increased her pace a bit, reaching the exit only seconds later. Right at her side, Cullen pulled out his spyglass. There were still up high. It wasn't quite enough light for their position to be discovered. _"We're on the far end of the village,"_ he thought, shutting one eye to focus on the enhanced sight. From his line of sight, it was—had been a small village. Not too many houses remained standing. They had been burned to the ground. Venatori were at the head of the village. He could also spot corpses… piled on top of each other at the heart of the village. They wanted her to see. They had intended to lure her here to see what they had done.

Cullen swallowed hard. Her family could be a part of that pile. The Commander lowered his spyglass, taking a glance in the Inquisitor's direction. This had been a trap. If they had continued on the path, they would have been ambushed. Solas stood beside him, narrowing his eyes. "There seem to be plenty Venatori here. And no sign of survivors," he stated. Cullen glared at the elven mage. Had he always been so tactless? "What shall we do, Inquisitor?"

"… Ki…" She spoke so low that he couldn't understand the response.

"You can't mean-" Apparently, Solas heard her clearly. "It is really to our advantage to-?"

"I said _**kill them all**_!" she spoke louder, voice venomous. The Inquisitor leapt from her position, and then slid down the steep hill, pulling the blades from her back. Cullen breathed in deeply through his nose, and then drew his own blade.

"Protect the Inquisitor!" he ordered the mages.

Solas followed after the rogue down the hill. Dorian and he, who were not as lithe, had to take an alternate route. "It's the Herald!" Already, they had been alerted to their presence. Soon, they would have the Venatori's complete focus. By the time they reached the bottom, the Inquisitor had already sliced through several enemies. Others withered on the ground because of Solas' fire attacks. "Oh shit—it's the Herald!" However, it appeared that they already realized the gravity of their mistake. They had made it personal.

To be honest, Cullen had become angry as well. Not as much as the Inquisitor, obviously, but enough to where he fought harder than necessary. Plunged his sword deeper than necessary. Felt more satisfaction than necessary as they fell. These men had attacked an innocent village. A relatively defenseless village. He had only sent twelve soldiers. A few of them had returned to Skyhold, or took other stations because they had reported the village resources would be needlessly used on them. It had been months since he had sent the platoon here, and only now had they come under attack. Maybe he was angry with himself?

If he had sent more soldiers, would this still had happened? Would the Inquisitor's—no… Akásha's family, at least, had a chance? His heart clenched painfully inside his chest. He was her Commander, and he had failed to protect what she held dear. Could she come to feel contempt towards him because of this? Cullen didn't think he could handle that. Not from her.

Eventually, enemies stopped coming, giving the Commander a moment to catch his breath. It had been awhile since he had been in actual combat. As he panted, his gaze darted around to find the Inquisitor. She was standing near the pile of bodies. He couldn't hope to read her eyes. She merely stared at the pile. Blank. Cullen narrowed his eyes as he watched her. She must of have hope. Hope that they would make it in time to save… someone. Seeing the bodies must have made it real for her.

"Well then, _Inquisitor_, does this upset you?"

0-0

Cliffhanger...? Haven't left one of those in awhile.


	14. Hurt II

Cullen immediately went rigid, snapping his gaze away from the horned woman in order to find the source of the voice. He found it. It belonged to a woman. She stood on the roof of a nearby house, lips forming a condescending smile. She had a pale complexion with dark hair—most likely a noble of some sort. She held a staff tightly in her hand. The way she carried herself and that accent… she had to be a magister. Assumingly, she had also been the one to orchestrate this attack. The Commander heard his own teeth grind together.

The Inquisitor did not respond to the new presence. The Tevinter woman frowned, and then slammed her staff down twice. "Archers!" At her command, Venatori appeared on the roofs' of other houses. The houses that hadn't been burned down. The houses that surrounded them all. Damn it. They had fallen into the trap even after knowing about it. "Warriors!" More men came from inside the houses.

"This isn't… good," Dorian stated, moving away from the Venatori. Despite what he said, he seemed to be moving into a defensive position for them all. Being close enough to his comrades, he could erect a barrier for them. "You know, I'm really becoming irritated with these run-ins with my countrymen. Doesn't do well in getting Tevinter on the good list. Why is it every time a tool shows up, they happen to be from my homeland?"

"Probably because most of them _are_ tools," Solas supplied.

"_Ha_,_ ha_, elf."

"How cold you are, Inquisitor," the woman simpered, ignoring the banter between the two mages. "You would think seeing the destruction of your backwater village would be enough to cause a grimace at the very least."

"Enough of this!" Cullen nearly snarled. "Who are you? How did you find this place?"

"Easy! As soon as this uncultured oxmen sent those pitiful troops back and forth, I found this village, and I knew I had to visit with the Venatori. Too bad there wasn't much of a fight to be had. They all screamed and ran, but alas… none got away," the woman replied. She shrugged as though she had simply commented on the weather. "Except that one I let go to get you here." It infuriated Cullen. More so, she had tracked the movement of his soldiers, and it had led her here. He had been partially to blame.

"Then you are an agent of the Venatori?" Solas questioned. "Then why do this? What would Corypheus have to gain from such inane tactics?"

"Corypheus has nothing to do with this!" the woman sneered, icy blue eyes glaring down at them. "I did this in _revenge_! I just used my brother's connections to gather the Venatori for my benefit. She killed my brother, and so I found her miserable little village and killed everyone." She smirked, showing her teeth as she directed her gaze back to Akásha. However, the Inquisitor had yet to speak. "How does it feel to know _you_ caused this? How does it feel to know one man's death caused so many others? How does it feel to know that if you had just spared Livius Erimond's life, your pathetic village would still stand?"

Erimond…? The name sounded vaguely familiar, so Cullen assumed her brother hadn't been a random Venatori agent. This woman's vendetta sounded too precise for that. Then it came to him. That man, Erimond, had manipulated the Wardens. The Inquisitor had beheaded him herself. Briefly, the Commander looked towards Akásha. Her head was bowed and her fingers were clenched tightly into fists. Then, to his surprise, she relaxed. Just rolled her shoulders and _relaxed_. He honestly did not know how to react to it. "Thank you, Lady Erimond," the Inquisitor finally spoke, drawing the focus.

"What?!" the woman nearly squawked, obviously confused. "You're _thanking_ me?" She scoffed, placing a hand on her hip. "It shouldn't come as a surprise. You horned creatures aren't known for your compassion."

"You misunderstand…" Akásha continued softly. "You've confirmed that everyone died. Now…" Cullen could see the glow of the mark, but he could also feel the crackle of energy emitting from it as well. A quake traveled through his body. "Now I have _nothing_ to lose."

"Akásha, _no_!" Solas shouted.

The elf tried to reach her, but magical energy seemed to explode from her body. The force knocked away all who were on the ground. Cullen, too, had felt the effects. He felt paralyzed, but still attempted to stand up. The Commander staggered quite a bit, realizing his vision had been severely blurred. He shook his head to clear his vision, but it only caused dizziness. _"What was…?"_ It almost hurt to think. He had fought alongside the Inquisitor before when she had used her mark at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He had felt nothing. Now, it felt like her that energy was inside him, preventing his body from moving effectively.

He had to use his sword to remain steady. That's when he heard it. Muffled screaming made him look up. Slowly, his vision began to clear. "Aka…" The Inquisitor had moved on top of the roof where the woman was. Her hand was wrapped around the woman's throat. That mage continued to scream, demanding release as she uselessly clawed at the hand that trapped her. Green magic still emitted from her form, growing larger by the minute.

"You want to know how it _feels_?" Akásha asked. Her glowing hand impaled deep in the woman's chest. Cullen felt his eyes widen, not quite sure how to feel. The woman stopped her struggling, arms falling limply at her sides. Pure horror filled the woman's eyes. Tears ran down her face. Even with the distance, he saw the dark blood drippling from her lips and sliding down her pale chin. "_This_ is how it feels." A sickening squelch entered his ears as the Inquisitor pulled her hand from the mage's chest.

"Maker's _dick_…!" Dorian exclaimed, somewhere on his left as the lifeless body fell. Then he heard the sound of bowstrings being pulled back. Cullen shifted his gaze to see the archers were preparing to fire at Akásha. "No!" The mage must have seen it as well. The Inquisitor raised her hand, palm facing the sky. A green orb of magical energy appeared above her hand. It became big enough to surround her. The arrows hadn't been able to reach her because they vanished upon contact.

Akásha hadn't been finished, though. Her marked hand swiped at the air around her. The magical shield—what he thought was a shield—moved and consumed each and every archer. They screamed, but only for a short time. As soon as they had been enveloped in the green light, their bodies had disintegrated. The horned woman jumped down from the roof. Her impact with the ground had been enough to crack the surface beneath her.

A brave—no, stupid—man charged at her, sword raised and battle cry leaving his mouth. Expression unchanging, the rogue halted the descent of the man's arm by grabbing his wrist. Without warning, she snapped his wrist back—all the way back—causing the Venatori soldier to release a pained cry. The Inquisitor took a hold of his other hand, and then raised her foot and slammed it against the man's chest. Pushing hard and pulling harder, his limps were removed from his body. Blood sprayed everywhere nearby. Spattered on the ground, sprayed against the house, dripped and pooled around the body.

Cullen wanted to turn away—wanted to ignore what he had just witnessed, but he didn't. Couldn't. Akásha knocked the man away with his own bloodied limp before moving on. She ripped through the remaining Venatori with her bare hands. She tossed one man up, lifting her leg so that when he fell, his spine cracked under the pressure of her foot. Then she stomped on his head. Hard. Cullen wouldn't be surprised if the man's face could be recognized. Another was lifted by the arm and flung about like a ragdoll. Many more were punched and kicked, and yet still so much blood was spilled. Paralyzed with utter fear, the men could not defend themselves against her brutality. Her rage. Her anguish. She didn't use her weapons. Not once. She… wanted to _feel_ them break.

The Commander only stood there, as did Dorian and Solas, watching the horned woman wreak havoc on the nearly defenseless Venatori. _"Akásha…"_ he thought. _"Stop… Stop now…"_ For some reason, Cullen could not say it out loud. Only after the last Venatori agent fell, in a bloodied mess, had the Inquisitor stopped moving. Her clothes and skin dripped dark blood that wasn't her own. Her shoulders moved up and down in a rapid pace, clearly out of stamina. During the… carnage, her bun had come undone and her hair fell around her shoulders, wet. The Commander waited just a moment before his foot moved in front of the other. He made only one step towards her before she tensed, drawing in a shuddering breath. Her head sprang back and she released a cry so loud and long, Cullen believed he could actually feel her pain.

And it was_ excruciating._

Akásha dropped to her knees, screams abruptly stopping. The glow of the mark began again. Slowly, it grew bigger. "No…" Cullen heard Solas whisper beside him. "She's using the mark more than she should. It's going to kill her." Dorian cursed in his native tongue. He must have realized what that meant. He must have realized she _intended_ to overuse the power of the mark. The Commander narrowed his eyes, watching the green magic slowly consume her arm. He knew before Solas had spoken. He knew. Because he had gone through the same thing. His legs began moving. "Commander, wait!"

The order didn't register. He kept moving. Then he ran into some type of wall. It wasn't solid, but it felt as though it was attempting to push. Like tiny needles pushing against him, but obviously enough to keep him at bay. Like the energy flexed and lashed out against him. _"No!"_ Cullen thought. He would not be kept from her. Struggling, he moved to get through the magic. It sliced through his skin, but the pain was nothing compared to what he had felt because of her scream. He would push through. He would reach her.

Slowly, so slowly, the distance decreased, but at this rate… would it be too late? Then suddenly, it was easier to move. Faster. Though the mark's magic was overwhelming, he could sense other magic at interacting with it. Cullen turned his head a bit to see both Solas and Dorian, palms stretched out in his direction. The Tevinter mage held a face of concentration while the elf nodded his head. They were using their magic to get him through. Breathing in deeply, the Commander continued forward. At a much faster pace, he was able to reach her.

Her eyes were wide, but he couldn't see them for the mark had spread and caused the whites of her eyes to grow bright green. Like a twisted tattoo, it crawled upon her skin, infecting her eyes. Maker… Did she even see him? "Akásha…" She didn't respond to him, didn't even acknowledge his presence. He knew that all she wanted to do… was end it all. To let go because she believed she had nothing left. To end all that pain. She was lost in the magic, and she was letting it consume her. _"No, Akásha. You're not alone. I'm here… Don't leave this world yet."_ Words would fail her at this moment, though. He had to…

Biting the inside of his cheek, Cullen lowered himself so that their faces aligned. He swallowed thickly, and then leaned forward. He didn't care there were witnesses. He didn't care for the burning in his veins. All he cared for was bringing her back—finding her. Tilting his head a bit, he brushed his nose against hers. In the same manner she did to him occasionally, he started from the tip, and then worked his way back. Slowly. He hoped it would be enough. _Please be enough_, he thought.

Cullen reared back, hesitantly opening his eyes. He saw that the glow had left her eyes. Still wide and unseeing, but the power was receding. The mark completely returned to her hand. Akásha suddenly gasped, gaze becoming clear. "Culle-" Her eyes rolled back and her body went limp. His arms readily caught her. Her full weight came down on him, but he did not flinch. He picked her up, supporting her back and legs. She panted heavily in her unconscious state. Her hair plastered against her sweaty forehead. She appeared as she had after the first attempt to close the biggest rift.

"S-Solas!" Cullen called out, turning towards the mages. The elf had taken care of her before. He could do it again, couldn't he? He rushed over to the elf, slightly extending Akásha's body to him. The man appeared startled. To be honest, he had never seen such an expression on his face. "You must help her!" He didn't move. "**Solas**!" Finally, the elf snapped out of his daze.

"Get her to one of the houses. Lay her down," he ordered. "I will find a water source."

Quick as he could, Cullen searched for somewhere to put her down. The house, which was unspoiled by blood or fire, wasn't far. He moved, kicking open the door to get pass the threshold. The Commander heard Dorian following after, but he was more concerned with finding a proper bed. Upon finding it, he moved to lay her down gently. Akásha shuddered as if cold. Cullen removed his right glove, and then placed his palm against her forehead. She did not have her usual heat. "Maker's breath, Akásha…" he whispered.

"Are you… feeling alright, Cullen?" Dorian questioned.

"No," he admitted automatically.

"Not about… her," the mage explained. "I meant… _you_."

The Commander turned to him, confused. He felt fine. He opened his mouth to ask why Dorian would possibly think otherwise when Solas entered. He had with him a bottle of water. "If you can excuse me. I need space to work," the elf stated. A slightly polite dismissal. Cullen swallowed and begrudgingly left the elf to cure the Inquisitor. Once outside, he tried not look at the dismembered bodies or copious amount of blood. Right now… it didn't matter. But he felt that they would need to talk about it. Eventually.

Cullen squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, Maker… He couldn't recall ever seeing someone's heart break. But he knew that is what he had witnessed with her. She had truly felt she had lost it all. It hurt to see. It… had been a sight that caused him to fear. Akásha put herself at risk so many times, but that had been too real. He honestly feared for her life this time. And not because of the hand of the enemy. The Commander exhaled sharply through his nose. He would never forget what he had seen. Never forget how damaged she had become. Clasping his hands together, he began. "… Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide, I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the beyond," he whispered. Eyes opened, he lifted his gaze to the sky. "For there is no darkness in the Maker's light. And nothing that he has wrought shall be lost."

"Is that really necessary right now? Are you that afraid of what she did?" Dorian asked. He hadn't spoken for, at least, ten minutes.

"It's not a prayer for me… but for her," Cullen replied. His eyes shifted to the mage, whom had appeared slightly guilty. "It's become so very real that I… we could lose her. We rely on the Inquisitor's strength, and never think what could happen if _she_ breaks. I am afraid that the way we treat her left her to feel, without her family, that she had _nothing_. I am terribly afraid."

"You're afraid?"

"Of course I am! Are you _not_? Did you not see what she did?!"

"… I…" Dorian sighed, letting his gaze drop to the ground. "It was horrifying."

"You-" Before he could ask for clarification, Solas exited the home. His expression was as passive as always, telling him nothing of Akásha's condition. "How is she?" The elf shook his head, which only caused his apprehension to rise.

"I do not know when she will wake," Solas stated. "She may be like this for hours… maybe days. I do not know for certain. For now, we should prepare to stay. I do not believe it is a good idea to move her around too much." His eyes shifted elsewhere. "May I ask what we should do with the bodies?"

"Burn them," Dorian and Cullen answered in sync.

"Yes. I doubt she would want to see _this_ again," Solas agreed. "Might I also suggest retrieving our supplies from the horses? There is a special salve for her hand I can use."

0-0

A soft groan made Cullen lift his head. He had been at her side for quite some time, waiting for her reawakening. Only now, hours after she had fallen unconscious, had she made any noise besides breathing. Holding his own breath, the Commander watched for any other signs of her coming to. Behind closed lids, her eyes shifted rapidly left to right. Then her right hand moved, lifting to clutch her forehead. A louder groan left her as she tried to sit up. Quickly, he grabbed the canteen and pressed the opening to her lips. She had sat up by this time, using both hands to chug the water inside. As she drank, Cullen silently thanked the Maker for her recovery. Before, it had taken her days. This time, it had only taken until nightfall.

With a heavy sigh, Akásha pulled the canteen away from her lips. She breathed deeply, eyes squeezed shut. Eventually, she relaxed, shoulders slumping. "How… How long was I…?" she began wearily. Cullen took the canteen from her, and then placed it back on the floor next to the wooden stool he sat upon.

"Not as long as Solas anticipated," he answered quietly. Finally, Akásha opened her eyes. Her golden gaze did not look his way. She merely stared down at her lap. Cullen bit the inside of his mouth. He didn't want to tell her, but it was his duty to inform her. "We have… burned the bodies, Inquisitor." He frowned, thinking about the massive bodies he had noticed amongst the humans and elves. Her family had been near the base of the pile. "I… wasn't sure if there was anything else to do."

For a moment, the rogue didn't respond. She then tilted her head towards him, blinking slowly. She didn't show much expression, but Cullen could see she wanted—needed—comfort. Without hesitance, he held her hand, intertwined his fingers with hers. Palms touching, they both squeezed tightly. The warrior remained silent, waiting. This was not something one got over easily. It would take time. Akásha suddenly shuddered, and then sighed out. Slowly, she pulled away from him and moved to get up from the bed. He nearly protested, but a sharp look from her caused him to falter. "… Are you certain…?" he asked, instead.

"I… I need to do something," she replied. As though her body ached, she moved sluggishly to stand. Cullen stood with her, ready to help her walk if need be. Her footsteps were unhurried as she moved to the door. He matched her pace, and then opened the door for her. Outside, there was no longer a pile of bodies. They had done their best to destroy any remnants of what had happened. Still, she had looked towards the small mound of ashes and began walking forward. Once reaching the ashes, Akásha knelt, both knees on the ground. "I invoke you, Spirits," she whispered. Cullen watched her clasp her hands in front of her chest. "May the fire that burned cleanse their souls. May their ashes be swept away from this place by the wind. May the waters carry them safely. May they be welcomed by the Earth. May their souls return to a world better than this... Spirits, guide them on this journey."

She stayed in that position for several long moments. Then Akásha stood again, letting her arms drop to her sides. Cullen approached her cautiously, not sure if the memorial had been over. "Akásha…?" he called to her.

"Where are Dorian and Solas?" she questioned. To be honest, it was the first time he actually thought her voice sounded numb. Again, there was a tightness in his chest that he hadn't been used to feeling. Softly, he told her that the two had been scouring the village. He did not tell her it had been hours ago. He supposed they were trying to come to terms with what they had witnessed. Horrifying, Dorian had told him. Solas had remained silent on the subject, but Cullen suspected he felt the same. As to the reason they felt horrified, he did not know if it was the same as his reason. "We leave as soon as they return."

"Akásha-"

"Please," she cut in. "It takes weeks for this journey to end. I just… need a _week_, and then I'll-"

"No, that's not-"

Cullen stopped, turning his head. He had heard a noise. A strange noise to be certain. Dorian and Solas were in the opposite direction. He unsheathed his sword, staring into the darkness. He didn't have to wait long for the source of the noise to appear. From the shadows stepped a lone elf. Pale with dark hair, he appeared to be a young man. His eyes glowed, much like a cat's. Strapped to his back was a large two-handed weapon. It looked as though it weighed quite a bit, but he carried it comfortably. He stepped closer, revealing the grey in his eyes. A barely audible gasp left Akásha. He almost took his eyes off the unknown elf.

Suddenly, the rogue left his side, charging the elf, whom, to his surprise, did not appear fearful. He merely stood there, and then actually raised his arms. His lips parted, seeing Akásha give a fierce hug to the elf. The dark-haired elf return the hug with equal vigor, even managing to lift her off the ground. He had never seen anyone lift her, least of all a person half her size. Once back on solid ground, the horned woman placed her hands on the elf's cheeks. He saw her ears twitch in a rapid manner—excitement and… relief? She pressed her nose against his. A twinge of jealousy rose, but he instantly squashed it.

"Ketul… I thought..." Cullen could sense the smile in her voice. "You're still… How did-? How long?" The elf, Ketul, began gesturing wildly with his arms and hands. His ears twitched as he moved his limbs around. He… actually recognized the twitches. It was the same as Akásha's. Ketul let his arms drop to his sides. During his gesturing, he hadn't changed expression. Not once. Strange. Like a statue. "I… I see." She sighed, heavy and long. "Go then, Ketul. Bring them back." The elf nodded his head, and then abruptly took off, back into the shadows.

"Inquisitor…!" Cullen exclaimed, unable to hold back any longer. He had so many questions. Too many questions for her not to turn away and explain immediately. However, before the Commander could begin an interrogation, Akásha suddenly collapsed. Immediately, he was at her side. Before he knew it, he had lifted her in his arms. "Are you alright?" he asked. The rogue hadn't fallen unconscious. She had merely fallen.

"Shit… Can't move… Energy's gone," she muttered, closing her eyes. "Fuck—shouldn't have run at him."

Cullen sighed. She had used up the last bit of strength she had with that embrace. He wanted to scold her for behaving so recklessly, but… that elf had to be someone important to her. She wouldn't normally… The warrior bit the inside of his mouth. His gaze didn't leave her face as he carried her back into the home they had been using. He laid her down. She shifted into a comfortable position before opening her eyes. "You understood him?"

"Yes," Akásha replied. "He said… He got some of the villagers out before the Venatori arrived. He heard them coming. He used that secret entrance and the survivors were hiding until reinforcements from the Inquisition came looking for its missing soldiers. He felt something and came back here, only to see you, Dorian, and Solas. He hid until he saw me because he was not sure of your affiliation." She had understood all that? Through _gestures_? And why hadn't the elf mentioned any of this aloud? "Oh… My kitten… My little kitten has gotten so brave." Cullen bit the inside of his cheek. He had so many questions. But one in particular stuck out.

"Who is he to you?" he asked. A frown had worked its way onto his face, but Akásha was not looking at him. Her lips tugged upward slightly, showing a soft smile. The Commander narrowed his eyes. Just thinking about the elf had caused her smile? _"They must be quite close,"_ he thought, unaware that his frown deepened. The rogue drew in a slow breath through her nose before her lips parted.

"Ketul… He is my-"

Before she could properly answer, Solas unknowingly interrupted by rushing into the room. "Commander! I hear an approach. There are many that-" The mage abruptly stopped, probably noticing how slowly Akásha moved to sit up. Cullen turned to the bald elf, pushing back his annoyance. "Inquisitor…" Solas seemed surprised. Admittedly, the elf had estimated her recovery to two days. "You are… alright?" The rogue grunted as she completely sat upright.

"Don't be alarmed, Solas," she advised. "They are survivors coming back to their village."

"How can you be certain?" he questioned. "Perhaps we should flee while we can."

"That is not necessary," Akásha replied. "Since none of you bare indication that you are affiliated with the Inquisition, the survivors did not show themselves. Not until I was seen did they know it was safe to return." Despite her reasoning, the elven mage still seemed wary.

"Go, Solas. Retrieve Dorian," Cullen ordered. "It wouldn't do any good to have them think Tevinter isn't done with them if he mistakenly attacks." Solas nodded, then left to carry out the demand. Once gone, the Commander returned his full attention back to Akásha. She appeared less exhausted. Perhaps she was recovering her strength by the minute. The rogue suddenly gripped her shirt. He had removed her blood-soaked jacket and Dorian had… destroyed it with fire. Cullen had said she wouldn't want to wear it any longer. The scarf had been done away with as well. "Inqui-Akásha…?" he whispered, concerned.

"I…" Her eyes squeezed shut. "I can… I can _breathe_ again." Cullen supposed that it was true. Though she had lost her family, she had not lost her entire village. It was something, at least. Still, it made him feel terrible that she had felt that she _couldn't_ breathe. His fingers curled tightly into fist and pressed hard against his knees. "I thought I… failed them. I thought I-" She released a sigh. "Spirits…! I should greet them! I have to-" Cullen's hand had reached out and gripped her thigh, causing her sentence to abruptly end.

"Let's not be any more reckless than need be," he suggested. The horned woman had the decency to flush, mildly embarrassed. "They will come to you, I'm sure. For now, let us wait." Slowly, the Inquisitor nodded her head. Then her gaze shifted down to where his fingers curled around her thigh. Flushing himself, Cullen pulled his hand away from her. They sat in silence. Honestly, he hadn't felt this awkward with her since the first night they had been alone in her cabin. For several moments, he looked anywhere but at her. Then, swallowing, he refocused his attention. He could never really keep his gaze away from her for too long. "… So…" he began, hoping to break the uncomfortable silence. "You and… Ketul, you said, seem close."

"Yeah," Akásha said, nodding.

"And… you called him little kitten, I noticed."

"Yeah," she replied, nodding again. This time, her cheeks darkened. Akásha shifted her eyes to a corner of the room. "His voice did not develop properly, so he doesn't speak. But when he gets really upset or embarrassed, a noise comes from his throat that sounds much like a kitten." Unable to stop himself, Cullen asked—blurted, really—why she would refer to him as big kitten. "You… made the same noise." She looked his way again, smiling with a twinkle in her eye. "I think you were trying to hold in a scream because I had suddenly gotten close to your face, but I still heard it."

"What? I don't-"

"In Haven," Akásha supplied. "When we first had the chance to get to know each other. In my cabin?"

"I sounded like _a kitten_ to you?!" Cullen couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice. The rogue lifted one shoulder, a playful grin on her face.

"Be offended all you want, _big kitten_," she said. Cullen scowled unconvincingly. Her grin had been too distracting. "But it's the reason I decided to get close to you." Then her grin dropped. "Or do you regret that night of us… just getting to know each other?"

"Never. I would never." He had half a mind to reach out and touch her. Caress her cheek, maybe. Some gentle stroke that would further convey his sincerity. "Just by knowing you, I feel like a better man."

"… Cul-" Before she could continue, her saw her right ear twitch. He had heard the sounds as well. However muffled, he heard voices just outside. The two stood and began moving towards the door. Akásha went first. Cullen followed, noticing her movements were not as shaky as they had been. They were met by faces. Hopeful faces in a crowd. Both elves and humans, some holding torches. Ketul had led them here for he stood at the front. Behind him, two elves that shared a few features with him. Parents, perhaps. The female elf bit her lower lip and shifted forward.

"Kadan…" she whispered. Her long brown hair pulled into a high ponytail swayed as she stepped towards them. She had a lip piercing in the middle of her lower lip. Gold was the color of the small ring. Gold earrings dangled from both ears. There were also stud piercings above her left brow. The elf woman held out her arms, much as Ketul had done.

"Mamae…!" Akásha nearly exclaimed as she moved towards the brunette. The Inquisitor hugged the elf, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman. Strange. Cullen felt as though he had heard the foreign word before… Slowly, the embrace ended. The elf stood on the tip of her toes and Akásha lowered her head to allow her.

"Kadan," she repeated, and then gently rubbed her nose against Akásha's. The familiar gesture must have been a norm in this village. The woman's grey eyes shined with unshed tears. The male elf walked forward, lifting a hand to the Inquisitor's shoulder. She turned to him and allowed him to greet her in the same manner, nose against nose. He, too, referred to her as _Kadan_. His voice was deep, yet soft. His green eyes were focused completely on her. He, too, had dark hair like Ketul. The resemblance between the three elves were uncanny, but… oddly, he felt Akásha belonged.

"I thought I lost you…" Akásha murmured. "I thought I lost you all," she continued, directing her voice to the rest of the survivors.

"Clemency is delicate, but hard to destroy." An older man stepped forward, using a staff as he moved. However, Cullen didn't believe it to be a weapon for a mage. Perhaps he was the village elder? Small villages like this tended to have 'elders' instead of mayors. "Welcome home, Akásha." He bowed his head. "Or should I call you Inquisitor…?" The horned woman smiled and opened her mouth to respond. However, Solas and Dorian decided to make their presence known.

"So you _are_ awake," Dorian stated. He released a sigh. "I don't know what I'm to do with you."

"Yes," Akásha said, ears flattening against her head. Her smile had turned modest. "Anyway… I suppose I should introduce you." With a wave of her hand, she gestured to the three. "These are some of my closest comrades in the Inquisition. Solas. Dorian-"

"Actually, I'm her _friend_," the Tevinter mage corrected. Rather testily, Cullen thought. Akásha must have heard it as well for she paused and kept her gaze on him. Dorian, however, crossed his arms and did not say anything more.

"Yes…" she agreed almost awkwardly, turning her gaze to the Commander. "And Cullen." She bit her lower lip. "This is my family. My parents—Arurak and Rasihan. And my brother—Ketul." She indicated who was who as she gave their names. Cullen froze as the introduction sank in.

"Family…?!" Dorian had been the one to exclaim the shock.

"Is that a problem, _basra_?" Rasihan, the mother, asked sharply as though she still felt some type of way about anyone hailing from Tevinter. Cullen had heard the strange word before. Knight-Commander Meredith occasionally complained of that word after failed talks with the Arishok in Kirkwall.

"N… No," Dorian shrank back. The elf had lost her soft expression and had hardened her features so quickly that even Cullen tensed and took a step back. The likeness to Akásha made it clear whom had raised her. "Surprising is all. Was expecting someone… taller."

"Kadan," Arurak addressed his other half with a nudge of his elbow. The woman relaxed at his touch. "Our daughter has returned to us. Our son has saved us. This calls for positive thoughts, does it not?"

"Yes. They have taken back our village," the elder spoke. "We will honor our heroes and those who have fallen."

0-0

Cullen was pacing. Back and forth, rubbing his temples as though a headache plagued him. It didn't, though. Really, he felt frustrated and perhaps ire. He had felt this way ever since his… rather unpleasant talk with Dorian. After introductions had been made, the three of them had been largely ignored. The villagers had both welcomed back the Inquisitor and… celebrated. They believed celebrating the lives of those lost over mourning their passing. Understandable. The three of them were outsiders to Clemency. So they had stood off to the sidelines. Had watched the talking, the dancing, and the singing. From a distance they had watched. Until Dorian could no longer control his mouth.

The mage had nearly spit flames before storming off. Only Cullen had the decency to follow. Solas remained as he had been, watching the festivities. The Commander and mage had spoken, which had led to Cullen realizing why Dorian had been upset. Admittedly, the talk had affected him in the same manner. He had not acknowledged it before because he had been too focused on Akásha's feelings rather than his own.

Now he paced, unable to sleep like the rest. Inquisition tents had been set up—provisions sent with the platoon of soldiers just in case—and many had taken refuge in these tents. Others had taken shelter with the few houses that remained. Cullen, himself, had his own. Well, he had been to share with Solas, but the elf chose to sleep amongst the trees. The Commander had not argued.

So he had spent the night pacing. The ache in his legs was just a minor inconvenience. Rest was of no concerned to him. Not now. Cullen pressed his lips to a thin line, again rubbing at his right temple. A sigh left him. This was getting him nowhere. He, at least, needed to sit down. Needed to sit. Get his mind off of that conversation. Just as he was about to lower himself on the pile of covers and furs he had been given—wolf pelts, mostly—he heard a twig snapping near the opening of the tent. Instinctively, he reached for his sword only to realize he had removed his weapon and armor earlier on. There had been volunteers to clean their bloody things to show their thanks for saving the village.

"... Commander…?" Cullen flinched, hearing the voice. It belonged to the one person that afflicted his thoughts as of late. Despite all, he felt his body relax. He returned her call with her title. "Did I wake you? Can I come in?"

"Yes," he replied, keeping his voice leveled. When she entered, Cullen felt his mouth go dry. She had abandoned her clothes. Well… No. She donned new attire. Her legs were covered with white loose fitting pants and her breasts were hidden, but the rest of her… Skin. So much _skin_. Her shirt, if one could even call it that, was little more than royal blue cloth wrapped around her breasts. Yellow designs decorated the blue cloth. And… Were those tiny ropes around her neck and arms? They were yellow as well. Her favorite color. The Commander swallowed hard, watching the shadows from the candlelight dance across her skin. Later on when he was alone, _truly_ alone, he would think back to her state of dress and appreciate the blatant appeal. Now. Now he had to focus. "You changed," he blurted, not able to help himself.

Akásha bit her lip, and then did a small turn for him. Cullen gulped. The pants weren't as loose as he first thought. "Do you like it?" she asked, facing him again. Oh, Maker. Why must he be tempted so? "My mother made it for my birthday, but decided to give it to me early since… my clothes were..." She trailed off, eyes becoming unfocused. It made him abruptly think back to what happened hours ago. The Commander immediately remembered his earlier irritation. "_Ah_… anyway… It's called Antaam-saar. My mom says so I can have a bit of my Qunari heritage." The rogue shrugged, not noticing his frown. "Probably won't wear it out on missions, though."

"Is there a reason you've come here, Inquisitor?" Cullen questioned, tone hard. He saw her flinch. Then she dipped her chin, lowering her gaze to the ground.

"I…" She showed hesitation. "I can't sleep. Do you have some time?"

"Of course."

It had been a reflex to agree. However, the annoyance was still there within him. He could feel it rising just below the surface. "I love my family," Akásha began, clasping her hands together in front of stomach. "I missed them, but… being with them again after so long… I suppose I feel overwhelmed." Cullen could understand that. He imagined he would feel the same if he reunited with his family. Mia would be terrible with her questions. "It almost felt like an interrogation." Her chuckle was soft and it warmed him. He clenched his teeth, attempting to push down the warmth that washed over him. "I wanted to get away for a moment."

"You did not come to talk about them, did you?" Cullen asked. Akásha frowned. Her fingers grip tightened. She squeezed her eyes shut, ears flattening against her skull.

"I… tried to talk to Solas, but he seemed cold to me," she murmured. "And Dorian couldn't look me in the eye." Slowly, her eyes opened and focused on him again. "I wanted to see if…"

"_If I still love you?"_ he thought. The answer was simple, but… Mentally, Cullen swatted away the thought. "If I distanced myself from you?" he questioned out loud. His arms crossed. "You think so little of me?"

"No…! But-"

"Liar," Cullen cut her off. Her eyes widened. He had raised his voice to her. He had never done so. For a moment, the two only stood there, letting the atmosphere sink in. Admittedly, it was unusual for them both. "Dorian is quite cross with you, Akásha… And I can't say I don't agree with his reasoning." Her lips parted in surprise. His words, though calm, implied he was angry.

"You've seen what I'm capable of," she said, showing a wry smile. Her gaze shifted to the left and her arms fell to her sides. "You've seen the monster in me and it frightens you. What? Could you come to hate me now?" His minor annoyance instantly melted by the hot fury he felt by her words. Unthinking, Cullen moved forward. His fingers wrapped around her right horn. He yanked her down so that she was at eye level. However, she had only been startled for a moment. She immediately attempted to pull away, but Cullen held a strong grip. She tried pushing him, but that only succeeded in his pulling of her horn. They struggled, and in the end, both fell to the ground.

Akásha let out a startled yelp as her back hit the bed of furs. Then she focused her narrowed gaze on him. He glared heatedly down at her. Her mirrored expression did not distract him from the shudder that had passed through her. Cullen still had her horn in his clenched hand. He straddled her, using his other hand against the ground beside her shoulder to keep her trapped.

"You are _not_ a monster!" he nearly growled. "And to have you believe I could come to hate you—hate _you_—makes me feel you really _do_ think so little of me!" Her angry expression softened a bit. Flushing, she appeared guilty. Cullen, though, did not let go. "A spot of violence is not going to change the way I feel about you." His grip wavered just a bit. "You care, and you rush to help those in need whether or not it's a bother. Whether or not it could benefit you. You overcome any struggle for the greater good. Damn it, Akásha…You have more love in your heart than half of Fereldan." Brow furrowed, she stared up at him unblinking. Her shoulders lifted and her freckles became more prominent. Cullen almost lost his composure at the sight. However, he needed to get this out. Needed to get his point across. "But I am _angry_! I am incredibly cross with you. You _tried to kill yourself_!"

The words cut like a blade. In the still of the night, he could hear her ragged breathing. Or maybe it was his own. Suicide. Neither he nor Dorian had spoken the word, but they both knew it to be true. Akásha had intended to use the mark's power to drain her of her own life. While they were standing right beside her. Dorian had been beside himself with rage. How could she want to leave them? How _dare_ she be so selfish?! Those questions had come from the mage's mouth more times than Cullen could count. But he had come to share the same indignation.

"… I… I didn't," Akásha said, but her gaze left him.

Something snapped. Like a single thread had been holding back _everything_ had just snapped in two. Every emotion—anger, fear, guilt, pain, love, relief, pride, hope—swelled and burst through. He wasn't able to control himself, and before he realized his actions, he sank his teeth in her shoulder. The gasp that left her mouth was drowned out by his own throbbing heart. It felt like he could even hear his blood pumping through his veins. Cullen did not know how long he stayed latched to her. Only that when he finally came to his senses, Akásha remained motionless underneath him. Almost frozen.

Damn it. He had never intended to _bite_. What was wrong with him? Slowly, Cullen opened his eyes, having had squeezed them shut when he had bitten her. His fingers uncurled from her horn, only to wrap around her forearm. He squeezed lightly as his teeth and mouth finally left her skin. He couldn't bear to look at her, though, so he kept his eyes on her shoulder. Maker. He felt like a fool. His teeth had made marks on her skin. _I'm sorry_, he thought, but didn't say it out loud. Instead, he rubbed his nose against where he had bitten her. A sort of apology for the bite.

"Liar," he called her again. "You couldn't _breathe_? What about Dorian? Cassandra? Cole? Varric? _Me_? The world? Do you think we would be able to breathe without _you_?" She didn't respond. He closed his eyes, frowning. "I know you tried. I know because I've felt it, too. I've been there, too." Cullen let out a sigh, and then cautiously lowered himself so that there was no longer a gap between their bodies. "After what happened at the tower… I became so angry, so bitter, and so mistrustful of any mage. They weren't people to me anymore. I wanted them all to die. And yet… I questioned my life. Why was I the only one to survive? Why was I the only one to go on living, suffering, experiencing the torment every night? Every time I closed my eyes?"

Cullen clenched his jaw, remembering the horrors that had plagued his dreams. He remembered the way he had felt whenever a mage did not pass their Harrowing. Relief. Maybe even joy. One less mage to worry about. One less abomination to deal with. One less. "My Knight-Commander noticed my behavior towards mages," he continued. "He sent me away, hoping that getting away from the Circle Tower would help. It didn't. If anything, I became angrier. More depressed. More paranoid. I just wanted it to end. The pain was too much to bear. I wanted to end it all." Cullen swallowed thickly. "I don't know how I survived Kirkwall… I died every night in my dreams. Had I the means in reality, I would have. I would have stopped breathing… despite leaving behind those that cared for me." He pressed his nose and mouth to the crook of her neck. "So I know what you felt. I know what you wanted after you killed them all. That moment of sweet release—I know that's what you tried to do. Do _not_ lie to me."

After a few moments, Akásha shifted a bit underneath him. Her right arm around him as she sat up. Her left hand held his head in place. Cullen barely registered that he sat in her lap with his legs around her. He was too transfixed with the quiet sob that left her. "You're right," she whispered. Her voice sounded watery. "I did it. I tried to do it. Everything just hit me all at once. I couldn't breathe… I didn't realize how-" Another sob managed to get through. Cullen moved his arms around her, hands slowly sliding up and down her back. "Spirits, Cullen…! I didn't realize that you—_anyone_—could stop breathing without me. I just… kept thinking about them. That I failed them. That I couldn't save them. Had I been quicker, had I sent more Valo-kas, had I just moved the villagers—my family—somewhere else, I could have saved them. I could have protected them from harm… All that guilt. All that fucking guilt… And I couldn't deal with it."

Cullen lifted his head. Well, attempted to lift his head. Akásha still had a firm grip on the back of his head. "Let me see," he urged. "Look at me." Slowly, her hold on him loosened. Equally slow, he slid his cheek against hers until he faced her. Maker. She had a terrible crying face. Inside, his insides fluttered. But Maker, he found her beautiful. Could he be the only one to see this side of her? He felt oddly pleased with that. His hands reached up, palms cupping her wet cheeks. He wiped under her eyes with his thumbs. And then waited. Eventually, her tears stopped and her face relaxed. Only long sniffles interrupted the silence. _"Well… it is a type of release,"_ he thought.

Gradually, she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze to him. "I'm… sorry," Akásha said. "I'm so-" Cullen stopped her by moving closer, rubbing his nose against hers. She gasped. He was tempted to kiss her as well, but he would not take advantage of her like that. This. This would be enough. She panted softly. Her hands squeezed his sides, causing him to groan lightly. He reared back and moved his arms around her, pulling her closer. "Cullen… oh, Cullen," she whispered. It was her turn to rest her face in the crook of his neck. "You don't know how much this means to me… So keep breathing… I won't do it again."

"Thank the Maker," he replied, and then let out a slow breath. To appease her. To comfort her. To remind her that as long as he breathed, she would as well. She held him, breathing deeply in return. They stayed as they were for quite some time. Her breaths against his neck, causing pleasant shivers within him. Combined with her delightful heat, it was a wonder how he hadn't fallen asleep. But sleep had to come. They both needed rest—proper rest. "You should…" Cullen hesitantly began. "You should speak with Dorian as well." He felt her nod her head in agreement, but she made no move to break away from him.

"In the morning, yeah?"

"… Yeah," Cullen agreed.

0-0


	15. Share

A bundle of nerves. That is what he felt like. He had felt on edge since last night, in fact. Admittedly, Cullen had barely slept. He was too anxious about today. Today was the day he would make things right between himself and Akásha. The Commander bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes, once again, shifted to her form. At the moment, the Inquisitor was speaking—giving orders to what she wanted done of her advisors. He was listening, of course, but his mind had strayed quite a bit during the meeting. He couldn't help it, really.

Cullen wanted her to look at him. She didn't. She wouldn't. No matter how many times he glanced her way, she would not meet his gaze. It had been like that for over a week now. She hadn't sought him out. She hadn't come to his office to talk. To just _talk_. Whether it be matters involving the Inquisition or not. He understood her lack of intimacy, but the _distancing_… he wouldn't be able to cope with it too much longer. To only experience one side of her—after he had the pleasure of truly knowing her—was a harsh punishment. One that he deserved. The Commander gripped the hilt of his sword. He had endured for too long. Now was the time to fight.

Even though he had resolved to _fighting_ today, his heartbeat hastened when the Inquisitor ended the meeting with a wave of her hand. "That's it for now," she stated. "If there is anything you find that is worth investigating, bring it to my attention next time. You're dismissed." Cullen felt his heart thud harder against his chest as he moved towards the door. He opened it, allowing Leliana and Josephine to make their exit. Once the two women were down the hall, Cullen let the door shut. "Is there a reason you have stayed behind, Commander?" Her question made him flinch just a bit.

"I… _ah_… I…" Cullen cleared his throat, pressing his closed fist to lips. He stepped toward the Inquisitor, whom had yet to turn and face him. Slowly, his arm dropped. "…Akásha… Look at me, please." For a moment, she did not respond to his plea. Then she breathed out—long and soft. Cullen found himself moving towards as he turned to face him. He had decreased the space between then so quickly. Her eyes widened a bit, but she did not move. His forehead pressed against her chest and his hands hovered over her hips. Her warmth. Her scent. The rhythm of her heart. Maker, he had missed this. "Forgive me," he whispered. "May I…?" She nodded and his hands lowered to touch.

"… Not too much," Akásha warned with no malice. Her tone reminded him of when she first spoke to him. However, it had some softness to it. The Commander nodded again, frowning for just a moment. No. He shouldn't be upset by that. To allow him to touch at all was enough… for now.

Cullen breathed in deeply and relaxed. Shutting his eyes he allowed himself to become enveloped in her heat. Mere moments ago, he had felt anxious and flustered. Now, he felt calm. Serene. Safe. Then again, he had tended to feel like this whenever the distant had ceased between them. "I've missed you…" His words were barely audible, but she must have heard. Her body shifted underneath his touch. But she did not pull away, for which he was grateful. He pressed himself closer, lips grazing her shirt. His fingers slowly raked up and down her sides. Soon, though, it wasn't enough. Cullen lifted his left hand and turned his head. He then yanked off his gloved with his teeth. He snapped his head to the right, releasing his hold on his glove before returning his focus back on the Inquisitor.

She had not moved even as his fingers played with the hem of her shirt. Wasting no more time, Cullen slipped his hand under, palm sliding against her hot flesh. Akásha jerked at his touch. Her shudder only encouraged him. The tips of his fingers trailed circles on her skin and her muscles clenched in response. The Commander quite enjoyed touching her flexed abdomen. He breathed out, warming the cloth that covered her chest. He suddenly wanted to feel the warmth of her skin with his lips. Would she let him? Biting the inside of his cheek, Cullen boldly unfastened the bottom clasp, and then the next one. Akásha made a sound, but not of protest. He turned his head a bit, nose and mouth nudging her right breast. Another two clasps came undone. "N-Not too much," she repeated in a breathy whisper.

"… _Is_ this too much?" Cullen asked. His hand found her skin again, moving further up her torso. He shifted his gaze to meet her eyes. She stared down at him, eyes half-lidded and darkened. The horned woman bit her lower lip. A wave of heat washed over him and his insides trembled. With his right hand, he lifted Akásha's shirt a bit more, allowing his hands to move freely. He stopped, tallest digit rubbing across her skin. "How about this?" Her teeth clenched inside her mouth. Then her hand came to rest on his shoulder. Cullen did not falter. He pressed his lips repeatedly against her chest as his hand caressed her skin right underneath her breast. Her breath hitched and her back arched. "Or this?"

"Fuck…" she breathed out. Her lips parted as she dipped down. Cullen tilted his chin up to meet her lips. So close… and yet she did not give him what he wanted. "Right here in the war room? Think of the scandal."

"Naughty," he called her.

"You love it," she replied.

Yes, he did. Cullen slid his hand behind her back, fingertips tickling the base of her spine. It was a sensitive part of her skin, he knew. She gasped, arching her back further. "Akásha, please…" The horned woman blinked twice, seemingly snapping out of her daze. She shook her head, and then gently pushed him away. Cullen sighed, not resisting. He stood a few steps away to give her the space to compose herself. Or rather, for him to recompose himself. For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Then Akásha looked at him. He held his breath.

"Is…" She licked her lips. "Is that all you needed?"

Disappointment flooded him, but he couldn't say that he didn't expect it. He cleared his throat, looking a way for just a moment. "I… hadn't meant to… I mean…" With a sigh, he shifted his gaze back to her. "I meant… I wanted to tell you that I have a few dealings in Ferelden. I was hoping you might accompany me today." The 'dealings' were partially true. However, they were mostly a ruse. Admittedly, anyone could do them and it wouldn't take too much time. No, this excursion he had been planning was intended to spend some time with her. Akásha narrowed her eyes just a bit.

"I wasn't aware," she stated. "Are you expecting trouble?"

"What? No!" Cullen protested. This was not going the way he had planned. If only he hadn't lost control earlier. Perhaps he would have been able to ask her casually. The Commander rubbed his hand against his neck. "I… I'd ra-rather explain once we're there… if you w-wish to go." Maker's breathe…! He had been reduced to his teenaged self—where he had blushed and stuttered with his crush, hoping for a bit of conversation. "Do… Do you have some time?"

To his surprise, the Inquisitor nodded her head. The corner of her lips upturned. Her left shoulder lifted in a shrug. "I suppose I could. Surely Josie wouldn't mind if I skip out on etiquette lessons." Cullen knew that his fellow advisor would be very much irritable if Akásha ditched those lessons. He would probably get an earful for being the one to steal the Inquisitor away for an entire day. "I will accompany you. When should I be ready?" Hope filled him. He couldn't help but smiling.

"I will make the necessary arrangements," Cullen told her, lowering his arm. "_Ah_… Meet me at the stables in an hour?"

"Yes. That should be enough time for me," Akásha replied. The Commander lowered his head, and then turned to leave. Good. This was good. Perhaps his plan had a sloppy—albeit _good_—beginning, but surely he could make it up once they reached their destination. With his hand on the door handle, he prepared to leave, but the Inquisitor cleared her throat, halting his departure. He turned his head, furrowing his brow. The horned woman had her hands clasped behind her back. Her ears were flattened against her head. He saw her freckles from his position and her reluctance to look at him. "I… I've missed you, too." Heat blossomed in his chest. He could hardly believe it. She had been longing to see him as well? No. He shouldn't doubt her. Clearly, she had been as upset as he because of their… altercation. She had missed him just as much has he had missed her. Still, he felt astounded by her honest words. "Meet you in an hour, yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied, almost breathlessly. He could feel the blush spreading across his face. "I… I will make the necessary arrangements," he repeated. Maker, he loved this woman. He would not let this end. He would explain, apologize, and beg if he had to, but he would not let this end. Again, he bowed, and then made his exit. An hour would be enough time to give orders to his men, change his attire—because his armor just might get in the way… if things went accordingly—pick up a few essentials, and ready their mounts. He grimaced at the thought of handling the Inquisitor's mount. He was convinced Draco disliked him. However, this would all be worth it in the end.

Hopefully.

0-0

They had reached their destination ahead of schedule. The Keep the Inquisitor had liberated from the group of bandits had become occupied by agents of the Inquisition. Caer Bronach had welcomed them, most in surprise. A few, however, had been privy to what he wanted done. Those select few had confirmed their orders with a simple nod. The Inquisitor had remained ignorant of the exchange. She had been much too focused on showering Draco with affection. Apparently, it was the only way to calm him down enough for the stables. His own mount, Leonhardt, was never so difficult. She never required affection, and always patiently waited in the stables.

Upon their arrival, and dismount, the Inquisitor had left him to his own devices. She had wanted to change into her casual attire. This had been due to her other clothes being bloodied during the journey. A rather persistent bear had chased them down for quite a while before the Inquisitor had become upset and had leapt off of Draco, dual weapons at the ready. She had swiftly killed the large creature, without breaking a sweat, but at the cost of her jacket and pants being splattered with blood. Cullen had merely watched. She had killed the brown bear before he could even begin to attempt assistance. Well, he had helped her procuring the pair of bear claws and pelt…

Whilst she changed, he was in the midst of speaking with the two he had tasked to do the very important job. He had to make sure they understood the timing. Timing was key. "Commander." Her voice made him flinch. Cullen turned to see the Inquisitor approaching. He hoped she hadn't overheard the conversation. "I'm ready," she announced as she came to a stop in front of him. "Where are we going for these dealings?" Before the Commander could reply, one of the two spoke up.

"Inquisitor…!" She saluted the horned woman, gaining her attention. "We were just informing the Commander that we have already finished the… the dealings." The soldier motioned towards the scout by her side. The elf was frowning and looking back and forth between the soldier and the Inquisitor. "Theon here noticed a few days ago and the dealings were wrapped up just this morning."

"Oh…?" the rogue raised a brow. Cullen tensed, recognizing it as a suspicious brow raise. "Then I will take a look at the report of these dealings."

"Act-Actually, your grace, the report has already been sent to Skyhold," the soldier fumbled a bit. "We hadn't realized you would be coming here today."

"What are you talking about, Jacquelyn?" the scout questioned. "The Commander sent wor-" Fortunately, his solider stomped down hard on Theon's foot, effectively halting the rebuttal. The two had known of their arrival for three days now. Hadn't he mentioned that it would be vital for the Inquisitor not to suspect a thing? Surely, that is what he had written. Forcing in the howl of pain, the scout grimaced. "I mean… y-yes," he shakily said. "We have wrapped up the dealings and had no idea you two would be here."

"I suppose we came for nothing then," the Inquisitor muttered. Her eyes looked in his direction. Her nostrils flared three times, signaling her slight annoyance at the situation. Anyone would be irritated for traveling a long distance, only to be told their traveling had been for naught. Cullen cleared his throat, guiding her away from the two agents. He carefully told her that there was something they could do while here. She nodded slowly, raising her brow again. However, she did not question the 'something.' As they walked away, he faintly heard conversation between the soldier and the scout.

"I'd better not lose rank for that, Theon!" she hissed.

"You?" the scout snapped back. "I just hope Nightingale doesn't feed me to the birds! You know I don't like improvising!"

Internally, Cullen rolled his eyes. If only he hadn't rushed with his planning… He would have chosen better cohorts. Refocusing his attention back on the Inquisitor, he saw that her gaze had not strayed from the path front of her. And that his hand had not moved from the small of her back. Reluctantly, he pulled hand away. "It's not far from here," he told her. The Inquisitor gave noncommittal hum. He tried not to be disheartened by her lack of response. She had said she had missed him, but she continued to be distant even though she walked right beside him. No. He would _not_ be discouraged. Fight. He was going to _fight_ for this woman.

The pair traveled in mostly silence. Only the sounds of their footsteps upon the dry ground could be heard. The further they walked, the more Cullen wanted to say something to break the silence. He refrained, though. Once they arrived to his not so secret getaway, he would have plenty chance to talk. Minutes passed, and he finally saw their destination in sight. The lake he had become fond of in his youth hadn't changed much during the years he had been away. The Commander quickened his pace to get there first. He saw the large lantern, equipped with cut wood, sitting on top of the crate. Next to crate was the food he instructed to be prepared. Good, they had put the food in a chest to prevent bugs and such from having their meal instead. Just to make sure their meal was still there, Cullen dropped down to open the lid. Fortunately, it was, sealed and wrapped accordingly. The chest even held a taper to light the wood in the lantern.

"What is that?" Akásha asked, having made her way over onto the small wooden dock. Cullen let a smile cross his face. He shut the lid and stood to his full height before turning to face her.

"Something for later," he answered. "If you become hungry." Both eyebrows rose in curiosity, but she did not question his motives aloud. He held his hand out to her. After a beat of silence, she took his offered hand and stepped beside him. Just a few paces left, he led her to the edge of the dock. Then slowly released her hand. "You walk into danger every day," he began, watching her eyes take in the surroundings. "I wanted to take you away… if only for a moment." Cullen leaned against the wooden pillar, slightly surprised it was sturdy enough for his weight. An enlightened look crossed Akásha's face as if she realized what this was about. She shifted her gaze to him. "I grew up not far from here," he told her. "This place was always quiet."

"Here…?" she repeated. "I thought you grew up in Honnleath."

"Born," he corrected. "But this is where I was raised."

"_Ah_…" Her eyes drifted towards the lake. She was quiet for a moment, allowing her hand to rest on top of the adjacent pillar. "It is quiet… Didn't notice before because Sera had accidently shot a druffulo and we all had to run from it." She chuckled, and Cullen felt himself smiling again. "Chased us all the way to Moustache's hideout. He was sure surprised when we busted in like that, yeah." He chuckled along with her. Not only because she referred to Hawke's Warden friend as _Moustache_, but also because of Dorian. He had recalled the Tevinter mage complaining about that during one of their chess games. Of course, the mage had been much more melodramatic about his retelling of the tale. "Did you come here often?"

"I loved my siblings… but they were very loud," Cullen stated. She grinned at his admission. Most likely, she hadn't had that problem with her little brother, but she could probably relate just fine. "I would come here to clear my head. Of course, they would always find me eventually."

"As siblings tend to do," she replied, confirming his assumption. "Before I joined Valo-Kas and left Clemency, my brother would always find me. No matter where I was. Even if I _intended_ to hide from him." Akásha shut her eyes. "Clearing my head… That's a thought. Usually, I meditated." She lifted her shoulder in a shrug.

"I thought you might like it here," Cullen explained. "Being surrounded by nature in a quiet environment, I mean… Do you like it?" He nervously rubbed at his exposed neck. She nodded, smiling at him. He breathed a sigh of relief. Good. He had not considered that she had her own methods to clear her mind. But she still liked his special place enough. Akásha stepped closer to him, watching him with a certain gleam in her eyes, causing him to push himself from the pillar in response. "I thought it would be good for… both of us to get away for a while."

"That is… very thoughtful of you… Cullen," she murmured. The Commander flushed slightly. Even after all this time, her using his name caused a slight twinge of delight. Akásha turned her gaze to the lake again. Then she lowered herself to her knees and reached for the water. The palm of her hand touched the water's surface, slowly causing ripples with her movement. "Feels good…" She stood up again, and then unceremoniously began to undress. Cullen was ashamed to admit he actually squeaked in surprise. Her top was tossed behind her. He couldn't help but to stare at her bound breasts. He swallowed hard as she began loosening her boots. Instead of questioning her actions, because he was not expecting any form of undressing until much later, another squeak left him. "I want to get in," she explained as though translating his squeaks. "Water relaxes me." By this time, her boots were off and she was in the process of peeling off her pants.

"B-But…" Cullen helplessly looked around. Of course, there was no one nearby. They had come far from civilization. A splash brought his attention back to where the Inquisitor stood, only to discover her gone. Only the ripples in the lake pointed to where she had gone. Despite the sun shining, in the process of setting, the water wasn't exactly clear. Akásha had disappeared from his sight. The Commander released a soft sigh. It hadn't been a part of his plan, but he supposed if she was happy, then he could push his plans back a bit.

Glancing at the water's surface just a moment more, Cullen decided to gather her discarded attire. She took them off so they wouldn't get wet, so he might as well move them further from the water. After he gathered them, he put them down at the beginning of where the small dock began. Then he went back over to the edge just in time to see the Inquisitor lift her head out of the lake. A lily pad had gotten caught in her horn, but she didn't seem to mind. Cullen didn't mind it. With the water droplets cascading down her skin, it was hard to focus on the green attachment.

Akásha smiled up at him. It was a rather impish smile, but it made his stomach flop in pleasure. "Come in," she said, beckoning him with her finger. "It's not cold."

"As if _you_ can tell the difference," Cullen replied in jest. She didn't lose her smile. He bit the inside of his cheek, wanting nothing more to be near her, but… "I can't," he muttered. She blinked, seemingly surprised by his answer. "I don't know how to swim." The horned woman merely stared at him. She blinked again, slowly, and then her brow furrowed.

"You can't swim?" Akásha repeated as though confused. "… But you _lived_ on top of a _lake_." Cullen flushed in embarrassment. "And Kirkwall! And-And here, too! You've been surrounded by water most of your life and you can't _swim_?"

"I never learned!" he nearly exclaimed. "Templars aren't taught to swim. That has never been a part of the training. And… before that, I was too enthralled with swordplay to worry about swimming." For a moment, they stared at one another, letting the confession hang in the air like laundry. Then the corner of her lips twitched as though holding back a wide grin. Cullen sighed heavily. "You're insufferable," he groused. That seemed to break her control and a hearty laugh burst from her lips as though it started from her very toes. Watching her let go, it couldn't hope to hold on to annoyance. Would there ever be a state in which he didn't find her beautiful?

"O-Oh my Spirits…!" Akásha crooned once she had calmed down enough. Eyes still filled with mirth, she focused on him. "The more I know about you, the less perfect you seem." His expression must have shown that he had become affronted. "No… It's not a _bad_ thing. It's… It makes this feel real. Like I'm not dreaming, yeah." As if she had revealed too much, she dipped her chin, gaze falling to the water's surface. Her ears flattened against her head. Then the implications of her words hit. Hard. This whole time—had she been waiting for the dream to end? Oh, sweet Andraste…

"Akásha," Cullen began, feelings of shame bubbling inside him.

"J-Just come in," she cut in. "The water is shallow."

"You're taller than me," he pointed out, letting the issue drop. For now. He most certainly wanted to talk about it later, though. Her eyes looked his way again. A frown had worked its way onto her face. Wrong choice of words, Cullen realized too late. "I meant, I'd probably have to stand on the tips of my toes. It'd be uncomfortable."

"Hold on to me then." Her lip lifted, showing her teeth. Slightly irritated by his continued protests. Got it. The Commander shifted his weight as his hand reached inside the pocket of his pants. The gift had been tucked safely. He suppose he would have to wait to give it to her. Besides, the thought of holding on, wrapping himself around her, was a temptation he couldn't resist. Clearing his throat and biting the inside of his mouth, Cullen began to remove the layers he had on. During the process, Akásha had kept her eyes on him, expression completely unreadable. No ear twitches to give away what she felt.

"Must you stare?" he asked, finally pushing down his pants. He carefully placed his clothes in a bundle. His boots sat on top of the bundle. A strange sense of smugness filled him when she did not reply right away. It would seem he wasn't the only one in this relationship distracted by the sight of flesh. "Akásha…?"

"O-Oh," she breathed out. "Absolutely." Her cheeks were dark. "Don't stop at your undergarment. Show me _everything_." Her purr sent ripples of heat through him and he shuddered.

"Naughty."

"You love it."

Slowly, Cullen dipped his foot in the water, belaying her request to strip completely. She pouted just a bit. As he suspected, the temperature was cold. He grimaced, but obediently sank himself further in the water. He shivered, almost violently, before Akásha waded towards him. She hadn't even touched him yet, and he could feel her heat. She pulled him towards her, and he immediately latched on, wrapping his legs around her hips. His hands came to rest on top of her shoulders. Her hands gripped his sides, supporting him against her. He breathed out, feeling his body relax because of the heat she emitted.

"See…? Not so bad," Akásha said, breaking the calm silence that followed.

"Not bad at all," Cullen remarked. He lifted his hand for a moment to pull the lily pad from her horn. She smirked, but her eyes showed her thanks.

With their faces so close, he examined her features. He loved her freckles. Being so close, he wanted to kiss the cluster under her right eye. He wanted to count all the freckles her body may have. He wondered if her wrappings were hiding more from him. He was quite fond of her eyes. The color of her eyes had amazed him from the very beginning. Few humans had streaks of another color in their eyes. Amell had it. Her eyes were blue with brown specks surrounding her pupil. It had fascinated him, and it probably had been the biggest reason he had begun to notice her as more than a mage. Admittedly, Akásha's eyes had drawn him in, too. He could stare all day. All night. And her nose. He liked it, too. Larger than his—as were other parts of her body—he could fit his nose perfectly by hers. He would have never thought of doing something like that with anyone else. He loved her lips. He could kiss them from left to right, over and over again, but never tire. Her horns, too. He had caressed her horns often, sometimes unknowingly. He had been curious from the start about them. How far up could he go before she ceased to feel his touch all together? The answer was half-way. The nerves actually ended at the base, but she was extra sensitive where her horns protruded from her head.

"Cullen," Akásha spoke, snapping him out of his thoughts. He focused back on her eyes. "Thank you for bringing me here. I… I appreciate this." She pressed her forehead against his. "This place makes you happy. You brought me to your place of peace." Cullen shifted until his cheek slid against hers.

"Anything for you."

"Anything…?"

"Well… within reason."

She chuckled, and then pressed her lips to his. Cullen found his eyes going wide. Akásha hadn't initiated a kiss since their argument. But his surprise cost him. The horned woman had reared her head back before he could properly return her affection. She bit her lower lip and averted her eyes for a moment. "I could teach you how to swim, yeah?" Unsurprisingly, she pushed towards another topic. Cullen decided to just go with it for now. There would be plenty more, he was certain.

"It's too late. I'm much too old to learn," he said.

"No one is ever too late to have knowledge."

"… _Hm_…" His response was vague, which caused the Inquisitor to huff a bit. "Only if you allow me to teach you how to play chess." He laughed at her pout. "Come now. It won't be too bad. I'd wager you'd be good at it."

"You say that now, but I bet you'll be letting me win. Then I'll challenge Dorian to a match, only to have my ass handed to me. Then he'll gloat about it incessantly."

"_Ah_, we wouldn't want that."

"It'd be worse than a giant hole in the sky," she quipped.

"Without a doubt."

Akásha suddenly gasped and quivered against him. While they had spoken, Cullen had gradually shifted his head, aligning his mouth with the right side of her neck. Throwing caution to the wind, he had lightly pressed his lips to her skin, and then had slid his teeth across her vein. Her nails dug into his sides, but she did not make an effort to push him away. So he continued. Gently nipping, licking, and sucking up and down her neck. Another shuddering gasp left her as she tilted her chin to the sky. Cullen took advantage of her exposed throat and rubbed his parted lips against it. He could feel her shaky breathing. His tongue darted out, slowly sliding up until he reached the underside of her chin. Then he kissed back down, sucking on the hollow of her throat.

She gasped loudly, and then it ended. Her grip on his sides increased and he felt her pushing against him. Cullen very nearly growled in frustration. His nose pressed hard against her neck, releasing a heavy sigh. "I've missed you," he insisted.

"I… I know," she whispered back. "But…"

It wasn't his right to get upset, but a part of him was. He pulled away from her. And instantly regretted it. The water was colder than he remembered, and Akásha had apparently drifted them further away from the dock without his knowing. He had to hop several times in the direction of the dock in order to keep his head above water. If that wasn't embarrassing enough, he heard the belly-aching laughter following after his bouncing form. Shivering, he reached the dock and pushed himself from the lake. He turned, sitting on the edge.

Akásha had followed him. She silently did the same. With their legs dangling in the water, they sat in silence. Cullen frowned a bit. This silence hadn't been a part of his plan. He had to find a way to get them back on track. The sun was more than half way hidden. It would be dark soon. The Commander reached behind him for the chest, pulling his legs from the cold water. He opened the top and pulled out the taper. It didn't take long for the lantern to become alight with fire. He had felt Akásha's eyes on him as he moved about. She remained quiet as he removed the snacks. The chest was filled with her favorite things. Mostly sweets. She even enjoyed unfermented wine, so he ordered that to be placed in the chest as well.

Expectedly, her eyes lit up upon the sight of the custard tarts. Without warning, a tart was snatched from his hand before he could offer it. Cullen blinked once at his empty hand before his eyes settled on her, pressing the sweet delight to her lips. She ate messily, causing a bit of custard to ooze out of the pastry. The yellow substance slid down her fingers. Cullen watched, captivated by the way she licked the custard from her fingers until it was gone. Akásha didn't seem to notice his gaze because she was too busy digging for more pastries. The Commander swallowed hard, not bothering to hide his smile. He shook his head, and then grabbed an apple for himself.

The two ate in silence, watching the sky shift from light to dark as the sun completely disappeared and the moon emerged in its place. The atmosphere had shifted as well. Instead of awkward, it had become comfortable. Both were relaxed now. Cullen's gaze darted from the sky and the tower in the distance several times during the silence. It was almost time. Biting the inside of his cheek, he reached behind him again, only this time his hand found his pants. Perhaps Akásha did not notice his movement. She seemed to be in a trance, watching her toes pat at the water's surface. He fingered the gift in his pocket, and then cleared his throat.

"I'm glad you like this place," Cullen began. "I'm glad it's still the same after all these years."

"When's the last time you were here?" Akásha inquired, turning her head to look at him. Her feet had stopped playing with the water.

"The last time I was here was the day I had left for Templar training." He bit the inside of his cheek again, growing anxious. "On that day, my brother gave me something. It happened to be in his pocket, but he said it was for luck." That caused a chuckle to slip pass the rogue's lips. "Templars aren't supposed to carry such things. Our faith should see us through." Akásha shifted closer, shoulder leaning against his.

"Does it really work?" she asked softly. She frowned and her ears flattened against her head. "With what you've been through…"

"It works," he answered confidently. "I should have died during the Blight. Or in Kirkwall. Haven, even—take your pick." His eyes lowered to his pants, inching the gift out slowly. "I made it through. I made it back here. I… made it to you." Heat had risen to his cheeks. He did not dare look at Akásha's reaction. Not yet, least he lose his nerve. Cullen breathed in deeply, and then pulled the gift from his pocket. She let out a noise of surprise at seeing the trinket. It was a necklace he had commissioned. The Orlesian merchant at Skyhold had been more than happy to make it for him. He had given her the lucky coin as well as a chunk of Serpentstone. The coin acted as the pendant, hanging in the middle. Four shards of Serpentstone surround the coin—two on each side—separated by small silver beads. All held together by a simple silver chain.

"Cullen…" Akásha bit her lower lip, staring at the gift with rapt eyes.

The Commander held the necklace up so that she could get a better look. He knew that Serpentstone was her favorite metal. She collected the metal as much as she collected Elfroot. According to Dorian, the Inquisitor went out of her way to get her hands on Serpentstone. "Humor me," he said. "You don't know what you'll face before the end. This can't hurt…" Smiling so wide, Akásha leaned forward, allowing him to reach around her neck to snap the two ends together. The necklace hung just pass her collar bones.

"It's wonderful," she commented, finger lightly touching the coin. "I'll keep it safe." She did not return to her original position. If anything, she moved closer. Cullen's body faced hers as she moved to her knees, hovering above him.

"Good," he whispered, eyeing her inviting lips, which seemed to be inching closer. His hand raised to touch her left side. He tugged her forward until she rested comfortably on his lap, legs—bended at the knees—straddling him. "I know it's foolish, but… I'm glad."

"Not foolish," she said. "Not at all." Then she covered his lips with her own. Not a chaste kiss this time. This kiss was longer, filled with gratitude and adoration. Perhaps inklings of love? Cullen readily kissed her in return, lifting his other hand to her cheek. Sweet Andraste, he had missed this so much. He tugged her closer, chest to chest. His hand slid into her hair, still damp from the lake. Akásha shuddered and laughed against his lips. He liked the feeling of her laughter while they kissed. Cullen laughed himself, making sure to rub his fingertips against her scalp. She shuddered again, rearing back.

The Commander opened his eyes, observing that her eyes had darkened. She made a noise in the back of her throat that reminded Cullen of a growl. Her hands slipped from his shoulders and slid all the way down to the remainder of his clothes. Her fingernails brushed against his sensitive skin, causing him to tense and jerk in pleasure. But no… He couldn't get distracted now. No matter how pleasant the distraction may be.

Reluctantly, Cullen grabbed both of her adventurous hands. "Akásha," he started, and then tenderly kissed her fingertips. She blushed, clearly enjoying the action. "I still have to be forgiven. I _want_ to be forgiven." In her eyes, a look of understanding appeared. "Before we go any further, I must tell you…"

"I'm all ears," Akásha replied. Slowly, she crawled off top of him and settled back down beside him, legs back in the water. Cullen rubbed the side of his neck, not sure where to start. He had planned everything, but now that it was time to come clean… perhaps he should have practiced _what_ to say. "Start at the beginning," the horned woman advised as though she had read his mind. Her brow furrowed as she looked at him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No…! … Not really," he objected. She frowned and narrowed her eyes. The 'not really' excuse had gotten him into trouble already. Scowling internally, Cullen opened his mouth again. "Wait… Just… Just let me explain. Please." Akásha nodded curtly. "It started with… a dream."

So he told her, from beginning to end. Of course, he omitted some parts. Like the implication that he _loved_ her. Though he knew he had been wrong, a part of him still feared rejection from her. Instead, he had told her that dream her did not want to go any further than kissing. Kissing and touching had been okay, but the moment he had wanted more had been the moment she confessed that their relationship had only been fun. As he told her about the dream, Cullen couldn't bear to look her way. But he finished and she gave no response. Minutes ticked by and still nothing.

Hesitantly, the Commander let his eyes stray from his lap. He turned his head to see that she was staring—glaring, maybe—at the lake. Her jaw was noticeably tense. Biting the inside of his cheek, Cullen murmured her name. "Before… Before I say anything," she began, voice devoid of any recognizable emotion. "I want to clarify." Her head lowered and she shut her eyes. "You thought I came to you for fun? You thought that I was only using you for… entertainment purposes?" The manner in which she questioned him made Cullen want to deny, deny, deny. But… he couldn't.

"Yes," he answered, deeply ashamed. "When you and Leliana were talking about how fun it was to kill dragons, I kept thinking about the dream."

"If you wanted _sex_-"

"It wasn't about the sex," Cullen hurriedly cut in. "It was… the rejection. I wanted _more_ and you… didn't. That is what I reacted to. I was angry… I didn't want to be rejected by you. I didn't want to be used and discarded, and even though you didn't do anything, I took those feelings of rejection I had from the dream out on you in reality. I… I am sorry."

A few more moments passed in silence. Then Akásha sighed out, heavy and full of resolve. Cullen roughly pressed his lips together. This was it. Would he be forgiven for thinking so little of her feelings…? Or… could she truly be so disappointed and angry that she wished to end it all? The Commander gulped, attempting to push down his expression of dread. The rogue had not turned to look at him yet. Then she finally opened her eyes. "I… I understand," she whispered. The direction of her eyes had not shifted from the lake, but they appeared to be softer.

"You… You do?"

"Yes. I'm… troubled by your thoughts, but I can't say that I do not understand them," Akásha stated. "Because I have them myself." Cullen's eyes widen, stunned. Of all the things he had expected, hearing her say that had not been one of them. "I've had them for much longer, I believe." Finally, she turned her sights on him. "From the beginning, I've been waiting for you to have your fill of me."

"_What_? But-"

Akásha sharply turned her focus back to the lake. The frown had been clear on her face, though. "That night on the ramparts was… one of the best times of my life. Words can't even _begin_ to explain how I felt that night… When you kissed me… _Spirits_! I didn't know I could feel _so_ good…" She clasped her hands together. "But after we separated—when I was alone—I began thinking. Why and… and how could this be? Why would he choose _me_?" The rogue squeezed her eyes shut. "That night, I convinced myself that you only wanted to experiment with something foreign—exotic… to have the bragging rights for being with a Qunari. I told myself over and over that you would get your fill of me one day and create some random excuse to end things with me." Her thumb rubbed against her skin so hard that it looked painful. "Because of that, I thought about forgetting the entire thing—brush away what happened like it was some type of accident. But-" She breathed out as if she had been holding her breath. "I couldn't… I wanted to be selfish. I wanted your kisses. Your touch. I wanted _you_, so I became selfish and continued coming to you even with these thoughts gnawing at my mind."

"Akásha…" Cullen murmured, unable to say anything more. She dipped her head, curling her fingers until her nails dug into her flesh.

"So when we argued, I thought 'This is it. He's done with me.' Knowing it was coming, I thought I was prepared for that, but I wasn't… I ran away because I didn't want to be done," Akásha continued. "I ran and hid and avoided you after that because I didn't want you to officially be done with me." Her eyes suddenly opened, expression becoming relaxed as well as the rest of her body. "But then you surprised me. You hugged me today and said you missed me. I… felt very foolish and so guilty for doubting you from the very beginning. So yeah… I understand completely." Slowly, she turned to him, pulling one leg from the water in order to face him. "Cullen, you've done all these things for me today, but it's I who should be making it up to you." She reached up with both hands towards her right ear. She pulled the small hoop out of her earlobe and presented it to him. "This is the very first piercing I got. It's been with me for most of my life. It's very much a part of me," she explained. "I want you to have it."

"Akásha…! I couldn't possibly-"

"You've _earned_ it," she pressed, placing the earring in his open palm. "Think of it as replacing your luck if you want… or… a promise—my promise that going forward, I will do away with that doubt." She smiled faintly, but it had traces of remorse. "From this moment on, I will take you as you are, and expect nothing less." Before he realized it, his hand had reached up to grab the back of her neck. She gasped as he pulled her close. The tips of their noses touched. Her eyes, wide open, stared in surprise. Oh, Maker… He loved this woman. So much. But he couldn't promise the same thing. Akásha was too good for him, and he might always doubt her reasoning for choosing _him_ instead of someone else—someone more stable. However, he would try. He would do better. Selfish or not, he would not let her go. "Cullen…?"

"Akásha, you have my thanks," he finally responded. He curled his fingers, clutching the earring in his palm. His grip on the back of her neck loosened, but she did not rear back. Cullen smiled, and she mirrored his expression, appearing relieved. "And… it may not mean anything _now_, but I would never hurt you like that. I care for you a great deal." He averted his gaze, but only for a moment. "If this doesn't work, I would not disrespect you by giving a flimsy excuse to end it."

"Good to know," she murmured. Her lips met his in a sweet, assured kiss. Akásha wrapped her arms around him, smiling a smile that finally reached her eyes.

"Besides…" Cullen bit the inside of his cheek. "I do not believe I could ever get my fill of you." She blinked twice, brow furrowed. Then her eyebrows raised as if she caught the implication. Her mouth opened and Cullen swallowed hard in anticipation. However, before she could speak, the shriek and boom of the first firework going off interrupted. Immediately, Akásha turned her attention to the right, gaze in the sky as the next couple of fireworks went off. She pulled away from him, turning her full focus on the blue, green, and pinks that lit up the sky. A gasp of awe escaped her, gaze transfixed on the display he had prepared for her. Jacquelyn and Theon had set up quite nicely, but he almost wished the fireworks went off a few minutes later just to know what her reaction would have been.

"This…?" she whispered.

"For you," Cullen answered, reaching to kiss her left cheek. He threaded his fingers with hers. Their hands, now connected, lay between them. He turned his eyes to the sky and settled close to the rogue. Akásha sucked in a breath and seemingly holding it.

"Ar lath ma," she breathed out. Cullen felt his eyebrows knit together. He looked her away, but her eyes remained on the colorful sky. He softly asked her what she had meant. "… Maybe you will figure it out… one day." She squeezed his hand, still not shifting her gaze. The Commander regarded her for a moment longer, noticing the impish smile. The colors of the night danced across her face, and Cullen could not help the smile that crossed his face. He would figure it out. It seemed too important to shrug off. Eventually, his gaze found the earring in his other hand. He stared down at the gift, smile growing. A promise, _huh_…?

A few weeks later, if anyone had noticed his pierced ear, they did not comment.

0-0

Almost done, and then I can set my focus to my other stories... hopefully.


	16. Bond

Cullen was on edge. Nothing his fellow advisors said could stop his pacing. Of course, they had already received reports of the Inquisitor's victory, as well as her impending return. Still, it hadn't been enough to quell his anxiousness. Only seeing her, feeling her, would stifle his apprehension. She had gone against, not just any enemy, _thee_ enemy—Corephyus, and his twisted dragon. The powerful ancient mage that had caused so much devastation had been defeated, leaving the rest of the world in peace…? Well, that was a matter of perspective. Cullen had no qualms with admitting there could be more trouble later on. However, for now, it was a time of celebration.

Despite his own reservations, the rest of the Inquisition rejoiced without seeing their Herald. In their minds, they had been victorious in their cause. A feast had been prepared for her arrival. Many gathered, awaiting her return. So excited to see the face of the woman who had saved Thedas. Then suddenly, their murmurs broke into cheers and applause. Cullen halted his pacing, shifting his gaze from the stone underneath him to the ground below. He sucked in a quiet breath. The Inquisitor—Akásha walked through the throngs of people. They parted as she moved. The Commander released his breath, feeling a smile tug at his lips. She, their hero, had returned.

Of course, the others followed behind her—all of them safe. There was a distinct lack of Solas. His disappearance had been a wonder. However, the fact that he was no longer with the Inquisition was not at the forefront of Cullen's mind at the moment. Admittedly, as she grew near, Akásha was the only one he could possibly think of. She climbed the steps calmly with a smile on her face. The Commander could not contain his smile even if he tried. He was a moment's away from running at her to meet her halfway. He refrained, however hard.

Finally, she made it to them. Each advisor bowed low to show their thanks, support, and respect. She had been a… rather unexpected leader, but a leader all the same. It had been her efforts that had gotten them this far. Could anyone else do all that she did to ensure the future of Thedas? Cullen doubted he could be the one. He lifted his gaze to find the Inquisitor moving forward again. She shook hands with Leliana. They exchanged a few words with smiles. She gave a fierce hug to Josephine, who squealed in surprise. He chuckled lightly as the horned woman released the smaller advisor.

Then she turned his way. There was a pause on her end. Her ears flattened and her shoulders rose. Bashfulness. In this situation? There was no need. Cullen stepped towards her, decreasing the space between them, filled with determination. He was no longer nervous. No longer anxious or hesitant. This was the woman he was so deeply in love with. She was safe. And she was _home_. He could no longer hold himself back. The Commander intertwined his fingers with hers and pulled her down so he could meet her lips. He felt her freeze, but quickly she melted against him and returned the kiss.

Cullen was vaguely aware that the noise of the crowd had ceased, but he did not care. Not at this moment. His light, his love, his forever had come back to him. He could care less what others may think. Slowly, he reared back and opened his eyes. Akásha stared back at him, lips still parted. "I'm… not sorry," he told her in whisper.

"I'd be a bit disappointed if you were, yeah," she whispered back, hand sliding across his right shoulder. The Inquisitor pulled him close, her warm embrace assuring him that she was really here. She had made it back to him. Cullen squeezed his eyes shut as his grip tightened. He nestled between her breasts, enjoying the feel of her once again. Maker… Thank you so much for watching over her, he thought.

"I FUCKING _KNEW_ _IT_~!"

A scream broke the moment as well as their embrace. The scream had sounded much like Sera. He wouldn't be surprised if it _had_ been Sera. The scream had been the catalyst for more thunderous applause. Shouts of 'I hope you hitting that!' and 'Get it, Inquisitor!' made the Commander flush. Akásha chuckled lightly. She looked back at the crowd for just a moment before taking his hand again and leading him to the edge. The crowd had become more rambunctious.

He felt her squeeze, and he squeezed back in return. It was over. Finally over. The world could focus on healing now. Cullen lifted his gaze to the Inquisitor. He stared as she watched the people below her. She could rest. Just _relax_ and be normal for a bit. But not until she was away from the public's eye. Only then would she show her exhaustion. She deserved all the relaxation she could get, and he would be more than happy to help.

Eventually, Leliana directed them to the throne room. Akásha had not released his hand yet. As they moved, Cullen took the time to speak with her. "Breathing alright?" he questioned in a hushed tone. She turned to him, tired smile on her lips. Still, she nodded and squeezed his hand again. "You brought us here. You are proof that the Inquisition made a difference. That we will continue to do so."

"Let's hope that continuing to do so will wait a couple weeks," she replied. Cullen chuckled lightly. Her expression lit up in response. "But seriously… Our soldiers put their trust in _you_, yeah. If I am to be proof, then you are as well." Akásha halted just near the door and completely faced him. "I doubt we would have made it so far without such an excellent Commander. Thank you… for all you've done." She gave him too much credit, but it was appreciated regardless. He felt the warmth in his cheeks and he couldn't resist rubbing his neck, high and serene from her remark.

"I should be thanking you," Cullen murmured. "You are the one who gave me the chance… to prove myself." He averted his gaze for a moment, thinking back to those nights he truly thought himself incapable due to the lyrium withdrawal. Perhaps he would have faltered if not for remembering her words to him. If he had faltered, he would command no more. He knew that he would have felt guilty for it. And that she would be so disappointed in him. With her support, his symptoms, though harsh, would not get the best of him. "I appreciate all you've done… for me… and for the world." Akásha bent down to give a chaste kiss to show her thanks. The Commander grinned lightly. "Now… I should let you… mingle. I'm sure everyone desires your attention. As much as I might want it for myself."

"Perhaps you can steal it later then, Commander," she replied demurely, though her smirk was far from it. She released his hand slowly and walked away. Cullen watched her go, knowing his grin stretched crooked. It wasn't surprising that she made a beeline over to Cole. The boy had stood in a corner and smiled at her in greeting. More than likely, she would speak to her friends to find out their plans now that the Inquisition had completed what it had set out to do. She would save the nobles, and such, for last.

Without warning, a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Judging by the strength of said hand, it shouldn't have been too hard to figure out who the hand belonged to. Without surprise, Cullen turned to the hawkish stare of Cassandra Pentaghast. Her frown matched eyes perfectly. The Commander had to wonder how he had come to be the target of her petulant expression. Usually, Varric was on the receiving end. "Cullen, might I have a word?" she questioned. Though, from the way she walked away, his choice mattered little. With a slight grimace, he followed after the warrior. She did not go far—only far enough away from potential eavesdroppers. She sharply turned to face him. "Is it true?"

Cullen blinked at her odd question. Was he supposed to know the meaning behind 'it?' … Wait. Oh. Perhaps Cassandra did not know of his relationship with Akásha, which came as a surprise, really. "It is," he replied with a nod. "Akásha and I are together, though I am shocked that you did not know it." The warrior's frown deepened into a scowl. Her eyebrows knitted close together.

"I _did_ know of your relationship, Cullen," Cassandra replied. She folded her arms over her chest plate. She closed her eyes for a moment and smiled fondly. "She had been fidgety for hours that morning before she finally blurted out what had happened. Barely a day had passed since you had confessed your feelings for her. She had been quite… jubilant." That was true. After their night on the battlements, Cullen had heard many talking of how wide her smile had become. Some had even heard her giggling to herself. A smile tugged at his own lips. He had been in a similar mood, minus the giggling. "What I _meant_-" Cassandra drew his attention again. Her voice had become sharp as a blade. "-is your commitment to her. In front of the Inquisition, you announced your relationship clear as day. Not many people knew of your relationship until now. I admit that I had been… wary of your intention towards her because I believed you had wanted to keep your relationship a secret. But kissing her publically-"

_Ah_. He saw what this was about now. "Rest easy, Cassandra," Cullen interrupted. "What I did was not on a whim. I know that what I did changes how people see us. I do not care. What I do care for is her happiness. As long as she is happy… others do not matter." The warrior blinked twice at his admission, and then let her arms fall.

"Then you truly…?" Her gaze shifted to the ground for a moment. "I am very fond of Akásha," she continued, looking him in the eye once again. "But I realize her… attributes may be off-putting for some men… _most_ men. Do you truly care so little for her… height?"

"_Height_…?!" Cullen replied incredulously. "I fell in love with _her_, not her height!" Cassandra's eyes widened, clearly shocked by the declaration. For a moment, the Commander felt a bit uneasy. While it was true that he had said it to Akásha numerous times, he had yet to say it to anyone else. Not even his family knew how deep his feelings ran. Cullen bit the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to calm himself. "… It does not matter how tall she is, I assure you. Her… attributes, as wonderful as I find them, matter little compared to the person she is." The warrior looked rightfully apologetic. Still, it was a wonder why she chose that particular feature of the Inquisitor. One would think that her horns—lovely horns that caused a delightful moan when kissed just right—would be pointed out.

"Forgive me, Cullen," Cassandra said. "I am… merely curious. I meant no offense to you or Akásha. You are not a man that would be put off by a woman's… differences."

"Really, Cassandra, I would much rather you threaten me than interrogate me," the Commander replied in jest. A slight frown graced the woman's face. Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed. A chill went up Cullen's spine. Her stare was rather frosty.

"Believe me—I was getting to that part." Her voice matched her expression perfectly. "Know this, Commander Cullen. If you hurt her, they will not find your body _whole_." The chill went down his spine, and back up again in rapid succession. The horror must have appeared on his face because Cassandra dropped the cold glare. A small smirk, and eyes lit with mirth, appeared in its place. "Do not worry—I have said the same to Akásha."

"That is… reassuring?"

Her smirk turned into a smile. "Really. I am happy for you—the both of you. You two deserve your happiness," Cassandra continued. "What do you intend to do now that our enemy is slain?" She shuffled a bit. "I, myself, am planning to travel. I will find other Seekers… and reform them. Varric has offered to use his sources for me to make it a bit easier."

"Good for you," Cullen replied with a nod. It was an admirable goal. "I plan to stay in Skyhold for a time. Akásha wants to visit her family now that the danger has passed… We will be visiting my family as well." He nervously rubbed the side of his neck. Mia had been adamant about it and had roped the Inquisitor into it. He couldn't very well deny the both of them. "After that… I am not sure. I have an idea, but… To be honest, when we began, I didn't think about the future... I suppose that has changed." Her smile grew and she nodded, clearly approving his words.

"Well, I have taken too much of your time. I'm sure you wish to mingle with the nobles," she said.

"Sarcasm is unbecoming of you, Cassandra." The two warrior shared a small chuckle before she walked away, leaving Cullen by himself. He took this time to scan the room for Akásha. It took a moment, but he caught her sitting at the table and chatting with Sera. The horned woman was grinning widely. He could also see her darker cheeks from his vantage point. No doubt the blonde elf was commenting on their relationship. Cullen held back his own grin. Everyone knew now. Everyone knew that he belonged to her. And she belonged to him. It was… good. _Really_ good. Akásha felt the same, judging from the way her ears were twitching quite rapidly.

Cullen let himself grin as he turned away. Maker's breathe, he had never felt so fortunate. Finally, things had worked in his favor. Kinloch Hold, Kirkwall—they both seemed so far away now. Furthermore, he had found someone. _"Someone for me," _he thought fondly, eyes once again finding the Inquisitor. She made him so overwhelmingly happy. If anyone knew just how much, they'd call it a crime. The Commander rubbed the side of his neck as he shifted his attention again. If he continued to stare at her, they would surely know.

Still. So good.

Someone loudly, and obnoxiously, cleared their throat. Cullen paused, and then turned to face who had interrupted his thoughts. Dorian Pavus. No doubt he wanted to comment, too. Especially after he had been denied details of the relationship. "Cullen—look at you all smiles and blushing!" The Commander nodded and coughed into his closed fist. His greeting was expected. "If you don't stop, others will attempt to call it a crime."

"Yes, well…" Cullen mumbled, letting his arm fall. He had been spending too much time with Dorian, it appeared. "I assume you want to comment on my relationship with the Inquisitor?" The mage smile turned smug. Apparently, his assumption had been wrong.

"Oh no, I came to gloat," Dorian replied. "Your little public display of affection earned me five whole sovereigns." Cullen blinked, not understanding how kissing Akásha would benefit the mage in such a way. After a moment, he realized.

"You _bet_ on our relationship?!" he accused in a hushed voice. Conversely, he wanted to shout his displeasure at such a thing.

"Others didn't believe me when I told them," Dorian replied, unimpressed with the angry look being directed at him. He waved off the ripples of anger as though they were merely flies. "Bull had been certain Akásha didn't want such a little man. Blackwall had been almost adamant that you held no affection for her. Only Sera seemed to be on my side in this. Varric, too. Vivienne couldn't care less if she tried."

"I cannot _believe_ you-"

"Anyway," Dorian cut in smoothly with another wave of his hand. Cullen scowled in response. "I _am_ glad for the both of you." He smiled. "The way you two are—practically glowing—leaves much to be envied." His smile faltered somewhat. The Commander furrowed his brow.

"Does that mean…?" His cheeks grew a bit warmer. Honestly, he couldn't believe he was asking. "You and Bull?" Dorian breathed in deeply through his nose, and then released it sharply.

"It was mutual," the mage replied with a slight shrug of his left shoulder. An action he had picked up from Akásha, Cullen noted. "Don't look at me that way. I'm fine." The warrior shifted awkwardly, wanting desperately to change the subject. When he had learned of Dorian and the Iron Bull's relationship, the mage had expressed concerns about it. The mage had believed that the relationship wouldn't last, so getting his hopes up would be ridiculous. Perhaps Dorian had gotten his hopes up, after all, only for the relationship not to survive the turbulence. Whatever that turbulence was. Cullen supposed that Dorian would tell him eventually. Not tonight, though.

"So what are you planning on doing now?" he asked in hopes of shifting the topic at hand. A smirk touched Dorian's face. Cullen felt relieved.

"I am happy to inform you that our lovely Akásha has allowed me to stay in Skyhold," the mage answered, the smirk growing into a grin. "You'll be seeing a lot of me in the coming months."

"I had assumed you would return to Tevinter," Cullen murmured. Dorian loved his home country. He had been certain the mage would return as soon as the enemy had been dealt with. Then again… Perhaps not. Akásha had vaguely mentioned what happened between him and his father. Perhaps Dorian was reluctant to return home after what had transpired.

"Eventually, of course," he replied. "My country needs me." Cullen almost didn't stop the eye roll at the mage's chuckle. "Seriously… I will drag my country through change, kicking and screaming if I have to. But… for the time being, I'll stay by the Inquisitor's side. I need to plan, after all." The Commander nodded his head in agreement. Without a plan, the kicking and screaming may very well come from Dorian.

"You can stay for however long you need," Cullen said.

"Oh? And here I thought you would be wary of having me on longer than needed."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dorian. We are friends." To his surprise, his words had caused the mage to appear stunned. Eyes wide and lips parted, he looked quite speechless. A wonder, for certain. Cullen knitted his brow together in confusion. "What?"

"I…" Dorian shook his head a bit. "I didn't think… you thought of us as friends. I-"

"What? No, why would you think that?" Even as he asked, the Commander couldn't help but think back to the times he had been indifferent to Dorian—downright cold sometimes. However, that had gradually changed. "You're as much a friend to me as Akásha is to you. One could say that you are a best friend." The stunned look did not leave. In fact, it had become more prominent.

"I… truly did not think you thought that way, Cullen," Dorian admitted. "To be honest, I do not have many I can call friends." His brow furrowed as a slight smile appeared. "In fact, you and Akásha are my dearest, and only, friends. I just didn't think you thought the same."

"Of course. And when you depart for your homeland, you will be missed," Cullen stated.

"Now you're just being lavish!" His smile became wider. "I'm already touched. No need to go further. Akásha might become jealous." The Commander rolled his eyes as the mage chuckled to himself. "I'm not going anywhere too soon. Anyway, skipping the warm fuzzy feelings… How about you? Any plans? Long term, I mean. Not just cuddling with Akásha, I assume?" Flushing, Cullen coughed a bit. Admittedly, cuddling was something he expected a lot of. But that is not what Dorian had been aiming for with his question.

"Nothing solid yet, but I do have an idea," he stated. The mage nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "The Templar Order will be reformed. Of this, I have no doubt. But there could be others… like me. I want to create a sanctuary for former Templars… where they can safely recover from lyrium addiction." Cullen shuffled awkwardly for a moment. "Or… Or those who have already lost their minds to the addiction. I want to help them. Left unchecked, lyrium addiction is too horrible to ignore." Samson had spiraled. That could have happened to him if not for Cassandra and Akásha. Their support had been important, and others deserved that type of support. "It would be a chance for them to move on."

"How noble of you," Dorian said, approvingly. "And so very expected. Looks like we're both expecting changes. Good for us." The message was clear despite his words. The mage was proud of the former Templar. The former Templar was also proud of the mage. Who would have thought it possible? "So let us fill our bellies with warm food and ale in celebration of more than Corypheus' defeat, shall we?" Cullen nodded, glancing over Dorian's shoulder in search of tankards. However, his eyes spotted and settled on a familiar elf.

"Ketul…?"

It had been merely a whisper, but Dorian's head whipped around so fast that it was a wonder how his neck didn't snap. "Ketul?!" He sounded incredulous and… panicked? The pale elf moved slowly through the throne room, grey eyes glancing about as though searching. He stopped suddenly, and then hurriedly moved in one direction. Cullen's gaze followed Ketul to Akásha. The Inquisitor stood up with a grin and embraced her brother. She had been expecting him? "I can't believe he's here." The words caused the warrior to turn his attention back to his friend. Dorian, too, had kept his eyes on the elf.

"You didn't know either?" Cullen asked. The mage just shook his head. "You seem… in a state of shock." Dorian finally tore his gaze away from the reunited siblings. He shook his head again.

"You're seeing things. I'm fine," he responded. Was _I'm fine_ a universal lie? "I just… didn't think I would see him again."

"You've spoken to him before?" Cullen felt himself frowning. He hadn't gotten the chance to speak with any of Akásha's family before they had left Clemency.

"A bit…" Dorian confessed. "Well, I talked—ranted, actually—and he just sat there. Still, he was able to calm me down." Oh… He must be referring to when the Inquisitor attempted to take her own life. The mage had been terribly upset. Cullen had thought Akásha had been the one to calm him down the next morning. Apparently, it had been Ketul. "He knows his sister well. He helped me understand her… reaction."

"You understood him?"

"Wasn't hard. Akásha laid the groundwork with her little idiosyncrasies," Dorian explained. "And he _can_ speak, but chooses not to because of the way his voice sounds. Barely audible, some would say." The mage took a step in the siblings' direction. "I should go say hello. I don't think I thanked him. Don't fall apart without me." He waved as he walked away, not giving a backwards glance with his departure.

Cullen shook his head. It was a bit of whirlwind how Dorian behaved once Ketul showed up. Curious, he watched his friend approach the siblings. The elf, impassive as the last time the Commander had seen him, greeted Dorian with a nod of his head. The mage smiled and said something while lightly touching his moustache. Ketul blinked once, raised his brow, and then flattened his ears against his head. Cullen felt the beginnings of a smirk tug at his lips. He had been greatly reminded of how Akásha reacted to a compliment. _His_ compliments towards her.

"_Perhaps Dorian is fine about Bull, after all,"_ Cullen thought. _"Good."_

0-0

The celebrations went well into the morning hours. The sun hadn't risen, but it would soon. All throughout the night, Cullen had gotten congratulatory slaps on the back from anyone bold enough to do so. Not from winning the war, he was certain. Most of the celebration had been a blur. Mostly because he had been itching to find the Inquisitor by herself so that he could sneak her away. However, hours had passed and no one allowed her freedom from conversation. The Commander had almost lost hope of stealing her away.

That's when he noticed people began trickling out of the throne room, searching for beds—or anywhere to lay their drunken bodies—more food, or missing shoes. It was a chance to sneak away, and Cullen noticed that was exactly what the Inquisitor had in mind. The horned woman swiftly and stealthily moved towards the door that led to her quarters, avoiding anyone else that sought her attention. Smirking, Cullen followed her path.

Just as she reached the door, he stopped her with his voice. "Thought you could slip away, did you?" he questioned. Her back stiffened, and then relaxed before she turned to face him. She matched his smirk perfectly, but her eyes were tired. Cullen moved closer as she leaned against the door. She tilted her head to the side, smirk becoming quite sly. Despite his own fatigue, his heartbeat sped up.

"And so the big kitten catches his prey," Akásha whispered, eyes trained only on him. "What are you going to do to your prey now that you've caught her, yeah?" Cullen moved forward again, enough to take in her lovely scent.

"Anything she wants," he replied. Chuckling, the Inquisitor used her body to open the door. She did not shift her gaze from him. Her hand reached for his and she pulled him towards her.

"Careful—you might come to regret those words," Akásha advised as she slipped into the shadows.

"_Never_," he told her as he willingly followed into her domain.

Before he heard the door shut, he had been pushed against the wall with his lips captured by hers. The sound of the door closing was muffled compared to the blood rushing through his veins. This wasn't like the kiss the Inquisition had seen. No. This was more feral. Filled with want, passion, and slight desperation. She was here, kissing him in the dark. Alive. Home. Maker, he had missed her so. And he finally had her all to himself.

Akásha eventually pulled away with a giggle on her lips. He couldn't see her, but he knew a smile lingered. Cullen couldn't hope to contain his own satisfied smile. She tugged at his hand, leading him up the stairs. They had made it to her room. The morning sun shined, filling the room with light. Just how long had they been on the staircase? It didn't matter, and he didn't care. Akásha faced him, only to be met by another embrace. "Cullen…" she murmured. Her left hand slid against the back of his head, fingers getting tangled in his hair. Her other hand lightly massaged his lower back.

"Battle's won. There'll be a new Divine soon, and yet…" The warrior nuzzled her breasts. "I can't bring myself to care about anything other than you being alive."

"Were you that worried about me?" Akásha questioned. She chuckled lightly, and he could feel the slight rumble of her chest. "Did you forget I have luck?" Cullen lifted his head to meet her gaze. She stared down at him with a smile on her face. Her left hand left his hair only to caress his cheek. The Commander shifted a bit, lips finding her palm.

"I have luck, too. Did that stop you from worrying about me?" he asked. Akásha chuckled again and shook her head. She had mentioned the necklace. He had mentioned the earring. Neither item had managed to quell their anxiousness about the other's battles. Still, he would wear it for her forever. As he hoped she would do the same for him. Cullen took one step back and removed his hands from her hips. He began to unclasp her tunic, starting from the bottom. While he did so, he felt her eyes on him. He did not meet her gaze until he was ready to slide it off her shoulders. "I want to make sure you can relax," he told her. She nodded and sighed through her nose. Smiling, Cullen finished pushing the tunic off her shoulders. He tugged at the sleeves until it freely fell to the floor.

Cullen hooked a few fingers and tugged at the band of her pants, pulling her forward just a bit. Before he could pull them down, however, Akásha stopped him. Her fingers encircled his wrist, causing him to look back up. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed." It was not a request and the Commander found himself obeying without complaint. As he removed his armor and clothes, she took off her boots, and then slowly pushed down her pants. Then she released her hair from the bun, holding his gaze all the while. He watched, fascinated as her dark hair fell to her bare shoulders. "I want to hear your voice. It helps me relax."

"You want me to sing for you?" Cullen asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. He had kept his smallclothes on, and she did not object. Instead she walked over to him, leaning over his form. She smiled, and then guided him further up the bed. She had remained hovered over him as he had crawled backwards. Slowly, she lowered herself on his body. With her head positioned on his shoulder, she stretched her neck and lightly kissed under his chin. Cullen sighed in content, feeling her full weight. In the beginning, she had been hesitant being on top of him for fear that her weight would be too much. It hadn't been. It would never be. Her body was a comfort no matter how they slept.

"No… no singing. Not now," Akásha said. The fingers of her right hand slid down his left arm until they entwined with his. "Ask another question." Cullen's eyebrows rose in slight surprise. It had been months since the last question. Well, a lot had happened in the last few months. The Commander hummed lightly, free hand lifting to slide up and down her back. She shivered pleasantly, causing him to smile.

"Alright then… Could we… Crush?"

"_Ooh_, that sounds interesting, yeah," Akásha remarked.

"I'd like to think so," Cullen replied, laughing. The Inquisitor laughed with him, squeezing his hand. "Let's see… It started off as a normal day. Only I had just received the report that your men had been located. I remember that I couldn't wait to show you…" And so he told her. The seemingly sudden shift in his feelings for her back when they had lived in Haven. As he spoke his memories aloud, he thought perhaps it hadn't been so sudden. He had been fond of Akásha long before the dream. However, it had been the dream that had him diving headfirst into feelings beyond friendship.

Akásha suddenly chuckled. She had been quiet until the point. "I had no idea!" she said, voice slightly muffled because her mouth was pressed against his neck. "The morning after—you had been acting so strange. I hadn't imagine it was because you had a dream of kissing me!" She chuckled again and lightly squeezed his hand. "And you call _me_ naughty."

"You _are_ naughty."

"You love it." Cullen only smiled in response before shifting his head to plant a kiss at the base of her horn. _Always_, he conveyed through the kiss. For more than a few moments, the two laid there in silence. A warm, comforting silence that usually came right before sleep. However, Akásha kept wiggling. Slight though the movements were, they were enough to keep sleep at bay. "Hey…" she finally murmured. "I woke up, you know." She lifted her head, staring into his eyes. "I realized what had happened when I woke up and you were in my arms." Despite it being so long ago, Cullen felt his cheeks grow warm. He had been caught, after all.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he asked.

"I was going to. I had done it numerous times to Cassandra while we camped out in the Hinterlands…" she trailed off, gaze averting for a second before returning to him. "But I thought about how you would react to the situation. You'd be awkward and more than likely stop coming to me at night because you'd be too embarrassed." The Commander moved to sit up and the rogue slipped off his body to let him.

"Akásha, I wouldn't," he said. He bit the inside of his mouth. On second thought, he had run away as soon as he had realized. … And he became quite distant the next morning. "Well, then again, maybe I would have." Cullen turned his body to face hers. His hand tenderly stroked her left cheek. "I doubt I would have stayed away too long, though."

"That's…" She smiled and kissed his wrist. "That's something I didn't want to risk, yeah. I enjoy our friendship, too. Hearing how your feelings for me grew started from our friendship, so I wouldn't change it. Not one thing." Cullen let out a shaky breath. How, after all this time, could she still overwhelm him? Maker, he loved this woman. He kissed her soundly then, pouring his emotions into her. She met his kiss with equal vigor, pulling him as close as she could. No one else. No one else could make him feel this way. No one else could light a fire within him and simultaneously send him crashing into transcendence.

"Marry me," he whispered against her lips. Akásha immediately reared back, eyes wide with astonishment. Her mouth moved, yet no words had formed. Cullen felt his heart slamming against his chest. His nerves were beginning to tremble the longer she remained silent. Gently, he squeezed her side, inciting a small gasp from her. "Marry me," he repeated. It was amazing that his voice sounded steady. "I mean, will you?"

"Wh-What?" Akásha stammered out, but she did not move away again. She blinked rapidly as though she was only just processing his words and the meaning behind them.

"Please… don't think this is an impulsive question," Cullen said. "Though it's true I didn't plan this on this night, but eventually…" He shook his head a bit. "Why wait? I love you, and telling you—remembering—how I came to fall so hard for you has made me realize it's you or no one at all."

"Yes," Akásha breathed out. "Oh, Spirits! Yes!"

"Yes?"

"Yes! Cullen, I will marry you! A thousand times, yes!" The lips met again in a gentle clash. So loving and tender, he melted against her, bliss rushing through every part of his being. Oh, Maker, Akásha would be his wife. His forever. _Hers_ forever. He had never dreamed this time would come. Pure. Unadulterated. Happiness. Suddenly, she pulled back again. "But… But what about-?" She appeared flustered and breathless. "The Ch-Chantry wouldn't marry us, would they?"

"I have it on good authority that the new Divine is a firm supporter of our relationship," Cullen told her. He gave a light kiss to her jaw. "Still, I have no qualms marrying you under the eyes of your Spirits. As long as it's together forever." He kissed her again, reassuring-like. She relaxed, only to tense up seconds later. "What is it?"

"I can't… I mean, I don't know if… I might not be able to… give you children," Akásha whispered, looking away. Cullen felt his eyes widen. He hadn't thought of that. He had not heard anything about cross-species offspring before. Though, he knew it was possible between humans and elves. The warrior sighed deeply through his nose, and then took her by the hand.

"Akásha," he said, but she did not look at him again.

"I think you'd make a great father," she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut. "I know you want… and I want to as well, but there is a high chance I won't ever… Marrying me might not-" He silenced her by pressing the tip of his nose to hers. She whimpered a bit as he slid his nose to rest against hers.

"That is not important _right now_," Cullen told her. "But I assure you, when the times comes, I will love and raise any child with you. Even if that child is not born from us." She whispered his name and nothing else, but he could tell she felt relief by his words. Finally, she turned her gaze on him and smiled again.

"Ar lath ma, Cullen."

"I love you, too."

She looked surprised that he had figured it out. Well, he had asked Solas. His cheeky rogue had been professing her love to him randomly after that night on the lake—even in the company of others. And he had not a clue. Cullen had been beside himself with curiosity, and so he finally asked. Solas had been just as stunned as he.

Akásha returned his earlier gesture, rubbing her nose slowly against his. "Yes," she shuddered before kissing his lips. "The answer was always yes." Cullen nodded his head, returning the magnificent kiss. Looking back, it should have been obvious. Talking. Understanding. Crushing. Caring. Trusting. Touching. Falling. Hurting. Trying. Doubting. Sharing. Swaying. Loving. The answer to their relationship had always been the same—from the both of them. It did not matter her or his differences. Two unlikely people had come together despite those differences. They had become better together. "Could we bond?" Akásha asked, lowering her kisses to his neck. There was no longer any need to question their relationship. But he would indulge her whenever she asked.

"_Yes_."

0-0

Done and _done_! I have finished a story. I can hardly believe this story's done. And it only took a bit over a year to finish. Whoo, what a ride. And now I can focus on stories that I have been neglecting. Maybe. No promises. It's been a year, after all. Other fandoms have crept into my head, so... No promises.


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